Fire Winds
by InfinityArk
Summary: The appearance of the Dragonborn sets the world of Inheritance out of control. Destiny and Fate have been forcibly rewritten. Time and space will be ripped apart for both worlds the closer the Dragonborn gets to the Mad King.
1. Chapter 1

Fire Winds

Chapter 1

Eragon and Arya were wary of their new companion.

Well, he was less of a companion and more of an unwanted tagalong. He refused to quit following them despite both of them asking him too. Not that he really answered them. He would listen to them but never reply. Eragon was starting to think that the man didn't understand them, as if he were from a distant country, which would make since considering the demonic armor that he wore. The man had nearly scared both of them half to death with it when he first appeared out of some bushes in the middle of the night.

The man (Eragon hoped it was a man) was tall for a human, but he didn't tower over others by much. His extra height might have had more to do with his odd armor anyway. His shoulders seemed broad, but much of his actual form was hidden beneath his armor.

Sharp claws adorned the metal plated gloves. Eragon wondered how the man could use his weapons with them, much less pick anything up. The black metal of the entire armor seemed to have a distorted shine to it that bent the light to places where shadows should have been. Even stranger still, was the red glow that emanated from the crevices between the armor plates, though it wasn't apparent during the day, it was rather noticeable at night.

The man had two demonic swords, one on each hip, that where attached to a belt hidden beneath his black armor. One sword shimmered with a greedy reddish orange glow and the other a haunting purple. The swords almost seemed alive and it made Eragon uneasy. They were obviously enchanted. What they did was a mystery to both himself and Arya.

The man also had a matching crossbow slung over his shoulder, with what appeared to be black bolts in a quiver attached to his right hip, above the sword. Everything matched except the bolts. From what Eragon could tell they were made in a different style from the rest of the man's equipment. They were a smoother, more refined design, yet it was made of the same metal as the armor.

Every time Eragon and Arya settled down for the night (to keep up appearances) the armored man would stand at his usual distance away from them, about twenty feet, and never get any closer. He would stand there for most of the night in fact. It left Eragon a bit creeped out. Arya had once tried to offer him food, but the man never came any closer, nor did he seem in the least interested in the food despite the fact that he never seemed to eat.

Then there where the times he would completely vanish. Eragon and Arya where relived when it happened the first time on the road. They had started to run at full speed…and then about an hour or two later, the man reappeared as if he had been conjured up by magic. The stranger would continue this abnormal ritual of disappearing and reappearing almost every single day and even more often at night.

Eragon and Arya had decided to not to try to read his mind. He may very well be an assassin sent by Galbatorix to kill them; he simply hadn't had the opportunity do so yet. Either that or he wasn't sure it was them and if they read his mind he might call for reinforcements and then attack.

Though it seemed the most logical reason for his unusual lingering, Eragon couldn't help but think that the man that followed them was merely lost. That he was following them in an effort to find some recognizable landmark.

Arya, however, had simply answered him by telling Eragon that if the man was lost why he hadn't asked for a map or stayed in one of the villages they passed. That, and the fact that he was slowing their progress, since they had to run like normal humans with him watching. Nausauda was also for Arya's decision, saying that they couldn't waste any more time getting back to the Varden. After an hour or two of arguing, Arya won her point and they decided they had to get rid of him, though Eragon didn't like the idea.

They had started their plan two days prior. The rider and the elf had traveled off the road and into the grassy wilderness. They would get far enough away from prying eyes, and, hopefully, any potential allies that the stranger had.

To Eragon's amazement the man had hesitated before following them. Then a group of refuges had passed him by and he continued his relentless pursuit. Despite the hesitation and his heavy armor and weapons, the stranger had caught back up to them quite easily. It seemed that the weight didn't even affect the stranger in the slightest. Yet, another bizarre thing about the man.

It was on the third day that Eragon and Arya decided to begin their attack.

The sun was high in the sky and a comforting breeze blew through the grass, making the plants appear like waves of water. White, puffy clouds gathered in small clumps overhead and a good ten leagues in front of them a long line of dark storm clouds slowly floated towards them. Because of the storm, the rider and the elf where forced to carry out their plan sooner than they originally intended.

Eragon prepared himself as did Arya. He put together several different spells to use against the man. Arya believed that his armor was most likely enchanted and they didn't want to risk it.

At that moment, Eragon wished that he had a sword. He felt vulnerable without Zar'roc in his hands. Eragon had felt that way since Murtagh had taken the red sword from him. Eragon briefly wondered if the strangers swords where of any use, or were mostly just decoration, like the rest of his armor seemed to be.

They both turned around and approached the stranger. The man stopped. Two empty black holes where his eyes should have been, stared at them as they closed the distance.

When they were about ten feet away Eragon and Arya ran at him with their full speed. They spilt away from each other intending to hit him on two separate fronts. Arya and Eragon believed that his heavy armor wouldn't allow him to react to both of them at once. Eragon curled his hand into a fist as he prepared a spell.

Just as the first syllable fell from his mouth, the stranger looked at both of them, his head turning quickly. Then, suddenly, he knelt down into the grass.

And then he….

…Vanished.

Eragon skidded to an abrupt stop. "Wha-?!" He said, somewhat dazed by someone so big suddenly disappearing.

Eragon didn't even hear the man use a spell.

Arya looked around, appearing just as stunned. There was no way the stranger could hide in the grass or anywhere else without a spell, unless of course, he had used his mind. However, that was highly unlikely. Eragon watched the ground carefully for a moment, but saw nothing moving around. No dirt shifting, nor grass moving as a mass walked through it. This couldn't be possible.

Eragon searched with his mind. He didn't care if the man noticed since he already knew of their intensions.

He felt Arya's mind and she quickly let him know that she was searching as well. Eragon skimmed the felid. He touched the mind of various animals and the plants.

Then he found the stranger.

When Eragon first touched his mind to the strangers he was overwhelmed with the amount of information. He had to pull away from the man's mind for a second to prepare himself to find his exact location.

The man's mind had no real defensive barrier around it, or at least, Eragon thought it wasn't a barrier. Whatever it was, it basically layer upon layer of memories of hundreds, perhaps thousands of individuals. It was almost like trying to break past Murtagh's mental defensives, except worse.

There where so many memories, emotions, thoughts, and feelings swirling around the stranger's mind that Eragon wasn't sure which ones belonged to the man's, and which ones where just random.

However, this wasn't the worst part. The worst was the one feeling he felt throughout most of the minds was the _greed_ and the need to dominate anything and _everything_ in his path. The emotions overwhelmed him, even as he was horrified by some of the strange and alien memories, though he couldn't remember what the memories where about.

Eragon was, at least satisfied that he knew where the man was as he pulled back into himself. He was about to rush the man when he saw the look on Arya's face. She seemed stunned and confused. _Arya, are you alright?_ He asked her carefully.

She snapped out of whatever she had been doing. _Let us just kill this man._ She was still a little frazzled.

They were about to rush towards the man again when Eragon heard a loud clank and the swishing of air.

Suddenly a black crossbow bolt stopped in midair right in front of Eragon's face. It had been stopped by his wards and he felt a slight decrease in energy. After a second, Eragon realized that he would've been dead had he not had his protective shielding. The bolt would have gone straight through the space between his eyes.

The bolt then fell to the ground where it bounced a little. Eragon kept his gaze in front of him though, as he saw the stranger materialize a good twenty feet away. The man seemed to let out a sigh as he slung the crossbow to its place on his back.

Arya suddenly sprinted towards him. Eragon followed after her. The man took a step back, and made a fighting stance. It was odd though, it looked as if he intended to simply ram them with his face.

Eragon saw the stranger inhale, the plates of armor moving to accommodate his breathing.

Then, all went quiet for the smallest of seconds, as if the world was waiting to hear something incredible.

" **TIID KLO!** "

The very earth shuddered. The air trembled as it was blasted by an invisible shockwave, like thunder without sound. Time, itself seemed to warp and bend.

Suddenly, the stranger became a blur of motion as he appeared in front of Arya and drew his swords. The man was moving so fast that Eragon could hardly see him. And then, the black blur became a huge mass in front of Eragon and he felt a significant decrease in his strength as the stranger attacked him. Then, he vanished again.

Arya suddenly stumbled as she turned to face the stranger, as did Eragon, except he completely fell to his knees and gasped. He hadn't expected to lose so much energy so fast. He realized that if the stranger continued his attack, both he and Arya would die.

Unless the spells cost killed him first. In fact, Eragon expected the stranger to be barely standing when he turned around. However, he was wrong. Again.

The man was sprinting away as if he wasn't wearing armor in the first place. It seemed as though the speed spell hadn't even affected him. Eragon then wondered if the stranger had some sort of amulet or ring like Aren. That would be the only way he could have still been standing.

Then, Eragon remembered the words that the stranger had said…no, more like shouted. Were they supposed to activate the spell, but what about the effect that it had?

Arya distracted him as she ran after the stranger.

 _This is going to be a long day,_ Eragon thought to himself, as he too stood up and sprinted towards the armored man.

* * *

 _This is going to be a long day_ , Aodhfin thought to himself as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

Why had he trusted the strangers again? Oh, right, because they were the only people who hadn't out right attacked him or look like they were disturbed by his appearance. They had been afraid, at first, but the shock of seeing him had wiped off their faces after a minute of meeting each other. No one else seemed the same way, and something just told him to keep following them.

He had first arrived in this bizarre land about a month ago. He had been minding his business out in the cold, frozen mountains around Winterhold. When, suddenly, he had seen a bright floating sphere of light that had left him unable to move. Next thing he knew, he was falling through the sky and he would have died had he not used his Become Ethereal shout right before hitting the tree line.

At first he had thought he was in another part of Tamriel. Yet when he looked up to see the night sky, he was horrified to see a single, glowing, white moon. Only a fool would think that moon was Nirn's smaller satellite, Secunda, and Aodhfin was no fool. He then began to wonder if this was a daedric plane, but after some walking around and meeting the locals, he didn't think so.

Speaking of locals, they were none too kind. The instant he appeared they would start screaming and grabbing their frightened children. They yelled and cried out in a strange language that he didn't understand. Every time he spoke to them they only became more hysterical and they didn't seem to understand what he was saying. He would try to take off his helmet, but then they would attack him with whatever weapons they could find. Once he disarmed them, they would then abandon their entire town in less than a few minutes.

After that he had taken to walking in the wilderness for a while, thinking of a way to steal the clothes off some random passerby on the main road when he stumbled upon the odd pair of humans. They didn't seem to be Nords, Bretons, or Imperials, but rather, they seemed to be more elven. Though, he couldn't determine what race they were and they seemed more cat-like and more, well...refined.

The woman was the most human. She lacked the trademark elven ears and her eyes were not quite so slanted. She had black hair and she moved with a ridiculous amount of grace. The woman was perfect in her appearance and figure and it made Aodhfin uncomfortable. It seemed wrong that a human could possibly be so beautiful.

The boy on the other hand appeared to be more of a crossbred between human and elf. Not something unheard of in Tamriel, here however, he suspected that it was something inconceivable if the reactions of the townsfolk were any indication. The boy also had a piece of cloth wrapped around his head that just so happened to cover the tips of his ears. He also could hear metal clinking in his hand made backpack; the boy obviously had some sort of armor or weapons in the pack.

He decided to travel with them since they too seemed just as cautious and odd as he was. Their pace however never allowed him to steal a full seat of clothes nor acquire a horse. He went exploring often and used the clairvoyance spell to find them once he wandered the empty grass lands for a good amount of time. At first they hesitantly walked up to him to inform of something, however he couldn't understand their words.

At night he would study them for a while before wandering off again. Often times he burned a rabbit or snake to death and cooked it and ate it there as well as clean every piece of his weapons and armor. He also slept away from the strange humans and surprisingly he always seemed to awaken before them.

A few days ago the boy and women abandoned the road. For a moment he considered continuing without them. However, one frightened look from a passing traveler convinced him to follow them. At first they didn't seem to mind, but now he knew he was wrong.

When they first came running at him, he ducked down, quickly using a invisibility spell. His armor was enchanted to decrease its sound and an amulet he was wearing allowed him to walk straight though small thin objects with disturbing them. His skill as a thief and assassin would help too. However, his invisibility would only last so long, and he made a mad dash to get as far away as he could.

He was about to shoot the boy with a bolt when an odd ache started in his. It disappeared and then reappeared several times, and the women and the boy suddenly looked in his direction as if they knew where he was. That slightly unnerved Aodhfin, but he shot the bolt from his crossbow the instant that it stopped. Only to have the bolt stopped by a ward. It irritated him that he had wasted a perfectly good bolt.

Then they rushed him again.

He had just used the Slow Time shout, and it had failed to be of any use to him, again. Now, it would take a whole five minutes for him to use another shout again. He could feel his soul slowly fill back up with power again, the distant whispers of dragons echoing in his ears.

The humans where running at him faster than any normal human, even an elf from his world couldn't run as fast them. Magic seemed to be his only asset now and he couldn't use the invisibility spell since they would just find him again.

Aodhfin sheathed his swords; he had already found out that they would be of no use in this fight. He then prepared a flame spell in one hand and an ice shard spell in the other. He would only be able to get at least three shards out with his level of magic training. The rest he would use in a burst of flame to set the grass on fire.

Aodhfin skidded to a stop and swinging his arm back he formed an ice shard in his right hand and then launched it at the women.

The women seemed startled by the attack; however, she easily avoided it. Aodhfin threw another spike at the boy and he too, dodged it. Aodhfin hissed in frustration, letting his draconic side show for a second. Then, he aimed his left hand at the ground and let out burst of fire. The grass easily caught fire and he waved his hand in a half circle to cut the two off. Then, he continued his retreat.

For a moment he thought he was free of the pair. Then he heard the rapid crutching of grass to his right. He looked over his shoulder to see the brown haired boy swiftly approaching at an impossible speed. The woman was nowhere to be seen.

Then the boy shouted a word that sounded nothing like the dragon language. "Letta!" the brown haired, totally not an elf, boy cried out.

Several things happened that Aodhfin didn't quite understand. First, he felt like he had run into a wall. Then, his movements became slow for a second. After that, he tried to move, but was meet with some unknown resistance. His armor seemed to creak and groan with stress he wasn't sure it should have been able to handle. The enchantment on his armor to ward against magic started to glow a strange green color in ribbons of light like the ones he saw in the skies of Skyrim, and blue symbols began to float on him.

Suddenly, the blue symbols shattered. The boy scoffed in disbelief and Aodhfin turned to face him.

He was certain that the boy had cast a spell of some sort. Almost like a pathetic version of a dragon shout, though he doubted that was what it was supposed to be.

They had both stopped to stare at each the other. The boy seemed to be getting more frantic as he faced his opponent.

Aodhfin sighed, he hated having to kill people as young as the boy, but circumstances had put him in this position. He slid out his flame enchanted sword.

Then, the boy seemed to lose all sense of reason and ran at Aodhfin, his hands curled into fists.

The boy would have hit him too, had Aodhfin not dodged just in time. He let the boy rush past him.

He was about to turn and face him, when suddenly, there was a foot in his face. The whole world started ringing and shaking and the next thing he knew he was on the ground.

Then everything descended into darkness.

* * *

 **Hi, I'm InfiniyArk and I hope that you have enjoyed the first chapter of this story. I want people to understand that this is sort of my take on what would happen if the Dovahkiin did indeed appear in Alageasia. Aodhfin himself is not at all weak, as you'll find out later in the story, but I must admit elves in Alageasia are quiet powerful compared to Elder Scrolls elves. I've tried to figure out what would really happen if this did happen and I hope it becomes something you'll find very interesting. From here on out, most of the story will be in Aodhfin's point of view, so don't expect much oohing and ahhing from Eragon and the other characters, I only want to use their views when I really need to.**

 **Please review, it'll make me write more!**

 **(for those of you who are mad about The Straw. I just wanna say... I'm sorry, please don't throw imaginary rocks at me...)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello everyone! New chapter! Yeah! Finally…**

 **First off, I'm sorry for taking so long, I'll try to be faster next time.**

 **Secondly, I want to thank everyone who has reviewed so far. Not only did they make me happy, but they made me feel a bit guilty for taking so long to write the next chapter. I especially want to thank Ddragon21 for not just being the first to review, but also for the conversation we had via PM.**

 **Nightingale Elite, thank you for informing me about the typo. Keep up the good work!**

 **Don't worry too much dart0808, the only thing you'll have to worry about is slow updates. By the way, cool avatar picture.**

 **Anyway, I've detained you long enough, onto the story! (if you haven't skipped the authors notes already…..)**

* * *

Fire Winds

Chapter 2

The first thing he heard was the beating of his heart.

Then the feeling in his muscles slowly returned, sort of. His body felt heavy and he could barely move at all. However, he could feel cool air on his face and the softness of clothes on his skin. He felt his black hair shift in the wind. The breeze tickled the short hairs of his beard and mustache.

He twitched, his head moving to the side slightly. He heard voices around him. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids seemed to be heavier than normal.

Memories suddenly filled his mind like a raging river that he couldn't hold back. They came from the deepest part of himself. A piece that he had thought he had locked away.

Claws scraping against his face….

The eye of a dragon staring into his soul….

Flames…

A voice that sounded like music…

The glint of an ebony sword as arched downwards…

His eyes flew open.

He gasped as he sat up. The world spun around wildly as his head pounded painfully to the beats of his heart.

He gripped his head as if to soften the pain. Then, he wrapped his arms around his stomach as he felt his insides roll and twist. For a moment the world seemed to float. The light of the sun burned his eyes and he had to turn away.

Aodhfin gritted his teeth as he hissed in pain.

Suddenly, a weight fell onto his shoulder.

He turned to look at it source, only to find the brown-haired elven boy looking down at him. The boy seemed amused by something and Aodhfin wasn't going to wait to find out.

Therefore, he delivered a quick punch to the boy's face.

The half elf cried in pain as he stumbled backwards, clutching at his head. Aodhfin grinned, satisfied with himself, he even felt a little better. He was somewhat suspicious as to why he didn't hit a ward, but that didn't matter. He had gotten his revenge, if only a little.

He heard a sharp remark come from his left. He turned to face the voice and wasn't surprised to see the women he had fought earlier kneeling a few feet away. However, he was surprised to see her kneeling over his Daedric armor.

This prompted him to stare in disbelief. How had she been able to take his armor off? The magic wards only allowed him to do that…

Then he noticed how many pieces it was in.

Normally Daedric armor would be a hassle to put on and off. That was why Aodhfin had designed a way for all the pieces to come off with ease using a system of buckles and straps that had taken a while to make. The woman, however, had completely taken most of the armor apart, apparently discovering too late about the straps.

Aodhfin's shoulders slumped as he gave her a very disappointed stare. She seemed to notice, but didn't at all appear sorry about it.

Then, he looked down to see what exactly he was wearing. He had a dusty, torn, grey tunic on with short sleeves that exposed his pale, scar covered arms to the sun. Beaten leather pants that where held up by an equally worn down belt, and a pair of regular black boots that seemed brand new, though they had a little dirt on them. Aodhfin briefly wondered how they managed to get the clothes.

He turned to look at the women again. That was when he noticed that she was holding his flame enchanted sword, Blitz Cannon.

Aodhfin glared at her as he scrambled to his feet. She watched him stand with seemingly little interest. The fact annoyed the Dragonborn.

He suddenly heard a war cry from behind him. Aodhfin sidestepped and then turned around only to see the half elf fly past him. He had to give the boy credit, he was fast.

The boy turned around, but instead of throwing up his fist in a fighting stance like Aodhfin expected him to, the boy stood in front of the women, arms spread out, as if to protect her. The boy gained a strange look that told the Dragonborn that he would be willing to do literally anything to protect her.

Aodhfin frowned as he noticed the look on the boy's face. He shook his head slightly, feeling sorry for the half elf.

Then, the women stood up, shouting something to both of them, mostly the boy. The boy gave her an odd look, but they didn't say anything. Yet, a few tease seconds of silence passed, their faces twitching ever so slightly, as if they just had entire conversation. He was curious as to what was happening, yet he remained cautious. Something just didn't seem right.

They suddenly broke eye contact; the boy did not look pleased. The women, however, walked out in front of him, she was still holding his sword. Aodhfin readied a flame and an oak skin spell. It was moments like this that he wished he had more advanced magical training.

The women said some words and then she flipped the sword around in her hand. The blade sparked with little red lights as she touched it. Soon enough she was holding the blade with the hilt facing towards him.

Aodhfin gave her a questioning look. He would have said something, but he knew they wouldn't understand him.

The women stretched her arm out more and beckoned him to retrieve the weapon. Aodhfin charged up his flame spell just enough to use quickly as he took a few steps forward. He reached out with his right hand and grabbed the handle of the sword.

Slowly he took it from the women's grip, so that he would not hurt her. She released the sword after a second.

Aodhfin then stepped away from them and lowered the sword to his side, prepared to strike should he need to.

The women let out a relived sigh. Then, she slowly put a hand on her chest. "Arya," She said. She gestured to herself again and repeated the word. She smiled awkwardly as if she was trying to seem less threating.

He figured that the word the woman was saying was most likely her name, considering how she gestured to herself every time she said it. For a second he wondered why they weren't trying to kill him anymore, but he put that thought aside as he remembered that they could have killed him while he was knocked out. Despite that, he was still wary of them, there could be another far more sinister reason why they let him live.

The women repeated her actions for the second time. He could tell she was a little annoyed by his lack of response. He decided to amuse her.

"Arya," He gestured with a slight swing of his sword and nod in her direction. The syllables were strange on his tongue. Though he was used to pronouncing foreign names, he had never really heard of anything similar back on Nirn.

Arya brightened up a bit once she heard her name repeated back to her, however she froze for a second when she saw the sword move. Aodhfin sighed as he realized his mistake, but he made no move to forgive his actions or lower the sword.

Next, the boy cautiously walked around Arya to stand beside her. He suddenly realized just how tall Arya was. She was just barely the same height as the boy.

The half elf gave Aodhfin a glare that sent him a hidden warning. Aodhfin ignored it. The boy put a hand on his chest. "Eragon," He said flatly.

Aodhfin nodded and repeated the name back to the boy. Eragon actually seemed relieved that Aodhfin had learned his name.

The Dragonborn then stood up straight. He switched the sword to his left hand and put his right fist over his heart. "Aodhfin," He said clearly. It felt nice that he was finally getting somewhere in the way of communication in this foreign land.

"Aodhfin," The two repeated back to him. The Dragonborn nodded in approval.

Arya suddenly turned around and started talking to Eragon. She gestured to Aodhfin several times, Eragon listened attentively. The half elf nodded every now and then as if he was agreeing with the things she was saying.

Aodhfin wished he could understand them. It unnerved him to know that they could be talking about something important and he didn't know it. However, hopefully they would be able to teach him their language on their journey to. . . wherever they were going.

Arya and Eragon turned to him. Aodhfin noticed the movement and was curious as to what they were going to do next. Arya took in a breath as if preparing for a long speech, which Aodhfin quickly learned that she was.

Arya began to speak again, but this time Aodhfin could tell that it was a completely different language. The way it sounded alone was enough to tell him that. However, he didn't know why she had suddenly decided to switch languages.

The women continued to talk despite the fact Aodhfin couldn't understand a word she was saying. Eragon didn't seem confused, nor did he try to stop her.

Aodhfin decided that he would try to explain to Arya that he couldn't understand so he took a step forward. He opened his mouth to speak.

Eragon suddenly went on the defensive as he placed himself slightly between Aodhfin and Arya. The Dragonborn stopped himself. He shut his mouth, reconsidering, before opening it again to speak.

Arya stopped speaking. The instant that she did Aodhfin felt something connect to him and a small amount of energy left his body. He was confused by the strange feeling.

"There," Arya said. Aodhfin was shocked he that he understood her words. "Can you understand me?" She asked.

Aodhfin frowned. If they could do this before, why didn't they?

"Yes," He answered her in his own language. He could hear a faint whisper the second he spoke.

She gave sharp nod. "Good. Now, there are some things you have to understand before we let you do anything," She paused as if expecting some sort of refusal.

"Go on," Aodhfin urged her to continue.

"First off, the translation spell I put on you has been designed to sustain itself off your strength. I hope that doesn't bother you too much," Arya said.

"Not at all," It wouldn't be the first thing that had ever sucked his life energy away.

Eragon looked to Arya for a moment, and then he turned to Aodhfin. "We didn't let you live just so you could leave," The boy said.

Aodhfin sighed and then placed his sword in front of him, burying its tip into the ground as he rested his rough hands on the pommel. "No, of course you didn't."

"We are a part of a rebel group called the Varden," Eragon said. He flashed a glance to Arya before continuing. "We are fighting against the current king of Alagaësia, King Galbatorix. He is a cruel ruler, not only that but he nearly made an entire race extinct and he destroyed an order of peace keepers. His rule has brought pain and suffering to many people." Eragon told him. Aodhfin could hear a small amount of pain and hatred in his voice.

Arya took over from there. "After seeing what you could do, we decided to speak to our leader, Nasuada," She paused for a moment, quickly checked him for a reaction, though he didn't know why she would. "She has taken an interest in your abilities and wishes to meet with you." From the looks on their faces Aodhfin guessed this Nasuada wasn't the only one.

Aodhfin smirked a little. "So, you want me to help you defeat your evil king?" The two gave a quick glance at each other before giving him a slight, uncertain, nod. "Let me guess. If I refuse, you'll kill me?" The two nodded again, but this time they seemed more sure of their answer.

He figured he would have to do something like this. He didn't end up on that wagon headed to Helgen for no reason, just as he didn't end up here for no reason.

"Fine," He lifted the sword out of the dirt and returned it to his side. "But first, I want my stuff back."

Arya gave him a smirk that almost made him cringe. He had a feeling that she was about to bring him some bad news.

"Sorry, we can't do that. Just the blade and belt will have to do for now." She turned from his stunned face and walked back to the pile of gleaming armor.

Eragon gave him a sympathetic shrug.

Arya suddenly stopped. She seemed to sigh, before she spoke over her shoulder, "Unless of course, you can carry it without anyone seeing it?"

"I can do that," He had a spell he could use to send the armor to a pocket dimension that he had learned from a strange wandering mage in the wilderness of Skyrim's tundra. It wasn't a very large space, but it was big enough to hold his armor. He usually only used it when he wanted to travel though a city without being recognized. It was a lot easier than hiding the armor in one spot and having to go back and hope it was still there.

He also carried other random (often times useless) items in that space…

The half elf's expression changed from calm, to surprise, to disbelief all in a span of about three seconds. "No you can't," he blurted before he could stop himself.

Aodhfin decided to ignore that remark as he strode to the armor. Arya was already standing next to it. She had picked up the helmet and was examining it. She seemed confused about something, or perhaps she was confused about everything to do with the armor. "How do you see out of this?"

"Why should I tell you that?" Aodhfin evaded the question. He didn't want them to have any sort of advantage if they got in a fight again. That fight would end quickly if they knew about the magically enchanted glass visor in the helmet.

Arya was not pleased by his response. "This is a lot lighter than I thought it would be. It's like a feather. How did you do that? Magic?" She prodded him some more.

Aodhfin grabbed one of the helmets horns and took it from her hands. She simply let go the instant he started tugging. "Yes, the helm has many different enchantments on it. The entire suit does."

"Oh, really?" Arya glanced over the rest of the armor. She stopped at a brown bag and picked it up. Opening it, she grabbed out a golden necklace with a circular pendant that had a sapphire in its center. The jewelry hummed with energy and the Dragonborn could already tell what kind of enchantments were on it just from the feel of the magic.

He immediately recognized it. It was the necklace that gave a boost to his Magicka and stamina. Looking at the bag, he figured that it had his amulet of Talos and two other enhanced rings in it.

"What about this? Is it enchanted too?" She said quizzically. She was really beginning to annoy him.

"Yes," he glared at her before snatching the bag and the necklace from her hand.

Eragon decided to step in at that moment. "Aodhfin, do whatever it is you're going to do, and do it fast. We're running out of daylight. We need to get back to the Varden as fast as possible." The boy then turned back around and began to pace. He seemed to have a lot on his mind for someone his age.

Aodhfin lifted up his sword belt and buckled it onto his waist, immediately after he returned Blitz Cannon to its proper place on his right hip. He wished they would let him put the armor back on, he felt vulnerable without it.

He bent down and grasped the handle of his soul trapping sword, Soul Rupture, but Arya suddenly put her foot on it.

She shook her head. "Only one sword."

He sighed, a bit irritated. However, he couldn't blame her. Apparently they were in the middle of a war, and from what he had seen so far, he guessed that this Galbatorix was a very powerful man. The civil war in Skyrim had taught him that he should never trust anyone. Even your closest friend could turn and stab you in the back.

Aodhfin straightened back up as Arya took a step back to get out of his way. He concentrated on all the items he wanted to put into the pocket dimension. His armor, Soul Rupture, the bolts, the crossbow, and his daggers, which were still hidden in the armor itself.

He reached his hand out over the items and activated the spell. A blue glow appeared around each object and they started vibrating. Then, they became distorted as they were sucked into a space just above his palm. A moment later, everything was inside and Aodhfin ended the spell.

When he looked up he was surprised to see the dumbfounded looks on Eragon's and Arya's faces. Arya's vanished almost immediately, but Eragon just starred before looking at Aodhfin curiously. "You need to teach me how to do that," the boy said.

Aodhfin shrugged. "I guess."

Arya took a deep breath as she gazed off into the distance for a moment. She didn't seem to believe what she had just seen.

She looked down at the ground for a few seconds before raising her head up high again. "Before we go, we need to examine your mind."

Examine his mind? Wait, they could do that?

"But first you need to drop the your shielding," Arya said, her eyes gleamed with interest, no doubt she want to know what secrets lay in Aodhfin's head. Even Eragon perked up a little.

However, there was one small problem.

"Shielding? What shielding?" He asked.

Eragon turned serious and took a step closer. "The shielding around your mind, you need to lower it," He said. Arya narrowed her eyes at Aodhfin.

He didn't like were this situation was headed. He needed to end this quickly, before they broke out into a brawl.

"Where I come from, we don't have mind shielding or mind readers. I'm sorry, I can't drop a shield that don't know I have," He hoped they would see the truth in his words, but they only seemed to grow more suspicious. He knew that he had just ruined their trust in him.

The odd ache in his head from earlier started up again and both Arya and Eragon seemed to be concentrating on something invisible to him. The ache caused him to grimace a little, but it didn't get any worse or any better until the two stopped whatever it was they had been doing.

"Let's go," Arya turned on her heels and started walking towards the great expanse of wilderness, her cloak flapping in the breeze as she put the hood over her head. She was obviously frustrated about the outcome of what Aodhfin guessed was their attempt to break through his shielding.

Eragon seemed just as upset as his companion as he walked up to Aodhfin. The boy handed him a folded cloth. "Make sure it covers your sword," After that he followed after Arya.

Aodhfin unfolded the cloth to find a cloak. He swung it over his shoulders and secured it.

He sighed and then pulled the hood over his head before following them.

* * *

 **I know this chapter wasn't all that exciting so hopefully I'll get the next chapter out a lot faster than this one.**

 **If you notice any errors, please tell me (this includes name spelling). I don't exactly have a beta reader…**

 **Till next chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, guys, I think we all agree that this chapter is** _ **much**_ **longer than any other chapter that I've** _ **ever**_ **done before.**

 **Sorry for taking so long guys, I got stuck on this one part and for a long time I just didn't know how to continue.**

 **Also fixes to the story. SO LISTEN UP VERY IMPORTANT: I've changed the cool down of Slow Time from 30 minutes (What was I thinking?) to 5 minutes. It is still an 'expensive' shout like it is in the game, but now it makes much more sense.**

 **I would like to give a big thank you to everyone who reviewed. You guys are so important to me.**

 **Sorry to inform you guys, but school has officially started. This means even** _ **slower**_ **updates! Maybe, depends on what happens. Who knows, I may just write more.**

 **Umm… nothing important I can think of…**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

Fire Winds

Chapter 3

Two weeks had passed since their first formal meeting. They had returned to the road a week ago and began to follow its dusty path.

Wind blew at their bodies from seemingly every direction. Though the cold didn't bother him, the mere emptiness did. He was used to seeing mountains in all directions and the ever constant presence of the Throat of the World looming above the land like an ancient sentinel.

Here, there was nothing but grass, the road, an occasional tree, and the ever blowing wind. The mere absence of things was putting him on edge, he felt vulnerable out here with no protection whatsoever.

On the other hand, a part of him noticed that he could soar on the air currents for days on end. That is, if he had wings.

Arya and Eragon refused to speak to Aodhfin unless they absolutely had to. Not that they spoke much to one another anyways, at least not with their mouths. Aodhfin felt that if he didn't do something soon, he would lose any chance of gaining back what small amount of trust that they had. If he didn't, he knew that his reception into the Varden would not be a warm one.

Speaking of warmth, the two didn't let him very close to their campfires. He knew it was because they didn't trust him, and he didn't mind the cold. He wouldn't be a nord if he couldn't stand freezing a little.

Though, there was another reason they wouldn't let him next to the fire. They would walk a small distance away before kneeling next to something. At first he thought they might be praying, but he could barely hear their whispers and he knew their words where no chant or prayer. He could even hear someone speak who wasn't there. At least, not physically.

They often traveled around cities to keep a low profile. It was smart, but it didn't offer Aodhfin much chance to get any proper gear. So, he would sneak off and rob random strangers, with or without the pair's approval. Not that they liked it when he vanished.

Eragon was especially angered when Aodhfin returned with leather armored gloves and greaves. Aodhfin told him that he had to wear some sort of armor for protection, since they wouldn't let him wear his daedric armor. Eragon let it slide, though he gave a long lecture on the Vardens punishment for thieves and something about cutting off his hand. Not that he cared, plenty of people had tried to do that and not only had none of them succeeded but most were not among the living anymore.

He didn't bother to tell Eragon about the purse full of coins after that.

They had been running through the endless plains for hours. Arya and Eragon looked to be holding back their speed. He realized that they would probably be at the Varden by now if it wasn't for him. He had seen how fast they could move. He wondered if they could run far longer too.

* * *

It was midafternoon and far too soon when Aodhfin first beheld the white and grey tents of the Varden army.

There where thousands of them and the red tent in the center stood out among others. Like a drop of blood on a white marble floor. There was no doubt in his mind that was where this 'Nasuada' was staying.

Scores of men, horses, and cook fires were everywhere. He was shocked at the number of people, though he didn't show it. He had seen Imperial and Stormcloak army camps and while they were big, they were nowhere near this size. A civil war was nothing compared to this. He wondered if camps like this one where everywhere during the Great War.

He then noticed another smaller camp, not too far away, with men and couriers traveling back and forth from them. Why would a part of the army be separated from the other?

Numerous groups of horsemen surrounded the general perimeter of the camp. Some rode around patrolling, some carried banners, and others where raiding parties either leaving or returning.

They stopped at the crest of a low hill, observing the army for a moment. Aodhfin kept a good distance away from Arya and Eragon.

Two of the patrols noticed them. They blew their horns before galloping towards them like they were being chased by the daedric princes themselves.

Suddenly the boy laughed out loud, Aodhfin didn't bother to look.

"We made it!" Eragon exclaimed. "Murtagh, Thorn, hundreds of soldiers, Galbatorix's pet magicians, the Ra'zac – none of them could catch us. Ha! How's that for taunting the king? This'll tweak his beard for sure when he hears of it." The boy smiled triumphantly. It seemed he was happier about something else other than returning to the Varden.

Arya said something, but he wasn't paying attention anymore, only the approaching patrol. He descended into an old habit of his as he quickly studied them.

He counted fifteen riders. Most of them had swords, two had a mace, four carried bows on their backs. They had the initial advantage of height. In the span of three seconds he came up with ten different ways to defeat them, three of which didn't involve using a single shout.

Eragon, Arya, and Aodhfin watched the patrol approach. He took note of the fact that the two had stopped talking, but the boy's face still changed as if he was talking to someone.

The horses came closer and closer. Their hooves struck against the ground and he heard their armor clanking against each other.

Due to habit, Aodhfin tilted his head down a bit and tried to cover his scared face by pulling at his hood. He mentally kicked himself. He really needed to stop doing that while he was here in this world. No one would recognize him, no one knew about….. _him_ …...

Suddenly his gut knotted up. His heart pounded in his chest. A part of him froze in fear, the other surged to life with a sudden hunger that sent adrenaline rushing through his body. The souls of the conquered dragons inside him roared to life. He had felt this feeling before.

His soul began to _sing_ ….

A dragon was close by.

On instinct, Aodhfin looked up. Sure enough, just as he did, a sparkling blue thing erupted from the clouds. At least, it looked like a dragon, but its shininess was strange. As far as he knew, no dragon he had ever met would ever be so glittery.

Its wings where tucked in close to its body as it spiraled downwards, as if it intended to crash into the ground. He had seen other dragons do it too….

Right before they burned down a village.

Then it released a jet of blue flame, coating itself in fire as it freed a fearsome roar over the land.

Aodhfin moved his hand to grab the hilt, but realized that he was already holding it. With that he ripped his sword from its sheath as he took a battle stance. He freed his other hand and ignited an ice shard spell. If there was one thing fire dragons hated, it was ice.

The dragon came closer and closer, its shape becoming more defined as a shadow fell over the group. Its massive form was intimidating. It was almost half the size of a Tamrielian dragon.

With a loud snap of air, it opened its wings to catch itself. The webbing filled up with wind like a ships sails. Bright, blue eyes stared down at them, narrowed and menacing.

His heart bounded as his soul cried out for something to consume. The hunger turned to physical pain as his chest felt like it was being crushed. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he last had a dragon soul.

The dragon's back feet hit the ground. The earth trembled with the monsters weight. Eragon and Arya where forced to bend their knees to steady themselves. Aodhfin simply adjusted his footing, far too familiar with such landings. He was about to rush forward when he heard his name.

Arya was suddenly standing in front of him, one hand on his right wrist, holding his sword down and the other was on his shoulder. She stared at him intensely, her emerald eyes searching for something.

Aodhfin slowed his racing heart. His soul still yearned for a dovahsiil but he managed to sooth it somewhat in the process, the pain receding. It would take hours for it to calm completely after this.

"Aodhfin?" Arya said softly as her gaze locked onto his eyes. He didn't like it when she did that, her eyes where not human. He hissed softly at her and pulled himself out of her grip.

Walking around her, he was glad to find that the dragon had not started killing everyone. In fact, Eragon was busy hugging its muzzle, like it was some long lost family member. And, it might as well be, this was a different world after all. He needed to remember that.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. Then he rubbed his forehead, suddenly feeling tired.

He took a better look at the dragon. It certainly was shiny and sparkly. Its scales where almost like polished sapphires and he felt like he might get a head ache from its glare. But, the dragon was pretty. He had never seen a pretty dragon before. No harsh spikes jutted out from random places on its body and there where millions, upon millions of scales on the dragon that glittered when the suns light hit them, giving the dragon a halo effect. Its face was more rounded and smooth compared to the jagged angular heads of the dragons he knew. Not even its horns were very intimidating.

That was when he noticed the front legs. He shook his head in disbelief and almost laughed at it.

A dragon with front legs? It was just as unbelievable as Sheogorath creating order. He wondered what Paarthurnax and Odahviing would say when he told them about this. He knew a few people who would laugh with wild abandon at such a claim.

Pristine white claws adorned its paws, both front and back. White, bony spines sprouted out in a single row from the snout of its nose to the tip of its small spaded tail, well, small compared to the dragons he was used to. However, there was a noticeable gap where an odd saddle rested just between its shoulders.

He noticed that the dragon's facial features where moving and twisting into a gruff look of affection and concern that was directed straight at Eragon. Strange he had never seen any dragon do that, not even Paarthurnax…..

No….this dragon…..it couldn't be a…..

…female…..?

Could it?

Aodhfin's thoughts were interrupted by the swords that where being aimed in his general direction. The patrol units must have arrived at about the same time as the dragon and their horses had been a bit spooked by its landing. Though the men were more fascinated than anything. The men began asking a number of questions that went largely unanswered. Their horses whinnied and nickered, throwing their heads and stomping the ground with the dragon near.

Eragon finally turned around to see how Aodhfin was handling everything. The boy must have noticed the disbelieving look on his face, because Eragon gained this expression of utter amusement and a huge grin adorned his mouth.

The next thing that came from said mouth was perhaps the most stupidest thing the boy had ever done in his life.

"I know right? I didn't believe dragons were real until Saphira hatched for me. Don't worry, you'll get used to her," He gave Aodhfin a reassuring grin as he hopped onto the saddle. Aodhfin threw Eragon the most infuriated, menacing, and hateful glare a human being could ever possibly display via the eyes. All the while, he rested the urge to punch Eragon in the face. He defiantly didn't want to hurt the nondestructive dragon's friend and punching the boy would put him on the Vardens bad side.

Eragon must have seen the look, for some of the color drained away from his face and he turned away. His dragon, however, snaked its head around to look straight at him. Its eyes stared into his and he stared back. It was almost like a battle of wills, and maybe, it was.

He felt the pain in his head again but only for a brief moment as the dragon eyes widened and it began to pant. Its chest heaved and buffs of smoke blew out of its nostrils.

"Saphira?" Arya said in alarm. Eragon's face knotted up in terror as he looked down at his dragon.

Saphira was the one who broke the contact. But not before he saw the fear in her eyes, a fact that part of him was rather proud of, the other felt a bit of guilt. However he ignored them both, as he always did.

The dragons breathing returned to normal after a moment and she deliberately swung her head towards the camp in the most nonchalant way a dragon possibly could. Aodhfin had to grin at that.

"What did you do?!" Arya hissed in outrage as she grasped his right forearm tightly and swung him around to face her with surprising strength. Aodhfin grimaced as her nails dug into his arm. Her green eyes bore into his own blue ones.

He shrugged. "Maybe you should ask the dragon, I think she could explain it better," he snarled at her before tugging his arm free of her grasp. She gritted her teeth and hissed in frustration as she tried to read his mind again. "You know I can feel that, right?" He turned away as Arya groaned in annoyance.

Arya glared at him before turning her back. One of the riders cautiously offered his horse for Arya to ride and she accepted it without any malice or anger, apparently having gotten over their little fight rather quickly. But Aodhfin doubted that.

Eragon on the other hand was looking particularly horrified at Arya's outburst. Even Saphira looked a bit concerned by it. However they shrugged it off after a moment.

The group started towards the campsite and Aodhfin was relieved that Eragon and his dragon decided to be slow about it. They seemed to be delaying before returning to their duties.

As they came closer to the camp, Aodhfin could hear the soldier whispering to each other. He caught bits and pieces of conversation, mainly having to do with him and how strange he was or why he was even here in the first place.

More and more soldiers surrounded them, creating an honor guard that neither Eragon nor Arya seemed to like at all. At one point Aodhfin felt like he was being crushed by the immense amount of horses that where cramming around him. He managed to open up room by shocking the horses which were startled by the jolt and were eager to get away from him.

About halfway through the procession, a group of tall people lazily maneuvered themselves in front of Saphira.

To call them 'people' would be an understatement. They were the most beautiful, most graceful, most elegant people that Aodhfin had ever seen in his life.

They were fucking elves.

Their skin was unmarked and perfect. Their eyes glittered like stars. They had silver or black hair, both colors shining in the sunlight. Pointed ears stuck out of their heads. The way they carried themselves spoke of how they believed all these humans unworthy of their sight. And they moved with perfect grace like still waters flowing around a rock.

The strangest one however, looked more like an animal than anything that could be classified as an elf. He was taller than the others with even _shinier_ blue black hair covering his entire body.

Almost immediately he decided he hated the furry one the most.

All the elves did a strange sort twisting with their hands that Aodhfin assumed was a greeting of some sort. Eragon did the same. They said something in the language that Arya had used earlier before the translation spell had taken effect. It didn't convert like he expected it to. Arya, that conniving women… she had done something….no, the two had done that deliberately. He wondered if the spell would translate his shouts, if it did then he might upset these people more than he already had.

The furry one stood in front of the others. "We have come to guard and assist you, Eragon Shadeslayer, Saphira Brightscales, in the effort to defeat the Empire and remove Galbatorix from his throne," The furry one proclaimed, "Will you allow us to defend you?" he formally asked the dragon and rider.

"You may," said Eragon. A pressure leaned on Aodhfin's mind, like when Arya and Eragon had tried to read him, but this time it didn't hurt. The whispers of dragons paused as a ghost of words flowed through his mind, gone as quickly as it had come. The dragons were quiet for a moment longer, a fact that bothered Aodhfin, before they continued with their endless ranting of knowledge of the words of power.

Eragon said something to the furry one, but Aodhfin was thinking about the dragons pause. What could possibly cause them to become so silent? Nothing had ever stopped them before.

Then, they started moving again and Aodhfin forced himself out of his thoughts.

Saphira lumbered through a gap between the tents as a crowd of people gathered around the glittering blue she-dragon. They reached and clamored, calling out to Eragon and Saphira, shouting all sorts of things. There were soldiers mostly, but some civilians as well. He noticed horses prancing around and dogs barking wildly.

It reminded him of the times he walked through a village or city after slaying a dragon and the people would gather around and stare in cautious awe. Afraid, because they remembered Erebus, the first Dragonborn to appear after the return of Alduin and a raging monster of a man, no better than the dragons themselves. Yet thankful, for living another day.

They stopped for a moment and Eragon dismounted to take his sweet time talking to a group of people that all seemed somehow related to the rider. One man in particular he had long conversation with and a red haired woman stood next to him. The two people clung to each other, clearly in love. Eragon kissed them both on the brow and said something. The couple blanched at one point in the conversation but Eragon either didn't notice or ignored it.

The dragon snorted, clearly inpatient to get going. Eragon rushed his goodbyes before following beside the dragon on foot.

After five minutes of walking they finally reached the red pavilion in the center of the encampment. There, a young ebony woman dressed in a beautiful green dress stood in the middle. A spirited man wearing expensive clothes befitting a king (which he was, if the crown on his head meant anything) stood to her left an amazing amount of nobles standing behind guards were on either side of them.

The most noticeable person was the ebony women. Not only did she stand out, but the linen bandages around her arms drew his attention straight to her. She didn't bother to cover them up, rather she wore them like a badge of honor and showed them off for all the world to see. That he found admirable and he felt some amount of respect for her. Not many people were brave enough to do that, unless they were nords or orcs.

Arya dismounted and joined Eragon. Aodhfin was about to join them when one the silver haired elves put themselves in front of him and whispered, "Not yet." Aodhfin sighed, but complied. For now.

The green dressed woman whom he guessed was Nasuada, welcomed them back to the Varden and did a play on the crowd's emotions which caused them to cheer in triumph. Then the king spoke. His speech wasn't as well received as Nasuada's, yet the people remained polite about it. Aodhfin felt some sympathy for the man.

Nasuada whispered something to Eragon and the boy paled. His dragon suddenly looked amused. The boy turned to the crowd, desperately trying to hide his horror. A long moment passed before he sputtered out some useless crap about how honored he was to have their support and how happy he was to be back. The crowd went absolutely nuts.

Wonderful, if the boy could hardly speak to a crowd, how did he expect to have the courage to face and defeat Galbatorix?

After that, Nasuada made a gesture with her hand and a man practically jumped to her side. She spoke to him and he saluted before yelling at the crowd to return to their duties. The people seemed a little disappointed but complied.

Nasuada then looked beyond Eragon and his elven escort to glance at Aodhfin. She gave him a quick look over before beckoning him, Eragon, and Arya to come with her. She placed her left hand on the king's arm and they entered the pavilion. Eragon and Arya followed as the dragon went around to the side. The elf that was standing in front of him slid out of his way and waved a hand to the pavilion.

When he threw away the flap, he was surprised to find that it was mostly barren inside. There was only a few chairs, one of which Nasuada sat in, a single table filled with paper, a rug on the floor, and strangely enough, a mirror.

There were already a number of people in the room along with Nasuada and the king. Including the smallest person he had ever seen before. However, none of them surprised him just as much as the big ugly orcish looking things with horns that stood behind Nasuada along with four other people, two of whom where short. Their eyes where directed at him, watching his every move.

Nasuada suddenly spoke, snapping Aodhfin out of his thoughts. She introduced a man covered in gold to Eragon who politely greeted him. Then the storm came.

All the nobles seemed eager to converse with the rider about his little adventure. Aodhfin simply stood off to the side, leaning against a wooden support beam as he waited.

Eragon must be damn important to receive so much attention. He actually felt sorry for the boy, he never had to deal with so many people. Everyone was usually too afraid of him.

It was only after the longest hour and half of his life that Saphira finally decided that she had enough and with a low growl she managed to clear out all of the nobles that wanted to speak with Eragon. Aodhfin watched as all the mighty nobles ran away like frightened children, making up fake excuses.

Nasuada sighed as the last visitor let the pavilion. "Thank you, Saphira," She said and went on to apologize to Eragon who waved it off like it was nothing. Aodhfin emerged from his hiding place to stand slightly behind Eragon.

The king, who he had learned was called Orrin, suddenly gained a gleam in his eyes as he looked from Eragon to Aodhfin. Clearly he was curious about what had happened during Eragon's supposed journey through enemy territory and who the new stranger was.

King Orrin rolled his shoulders and then turned to Nasuada saying, "I do not think we require your Nighthawks to wait on us any longer."

"Agreed." And with a quick clap of her hands the six guards who had been standing beside her left the tent. They all threw a glare at Aodhfin before leaving, a threat that left him somewhat amused. Even if he wanted to hurt Nasuada, what could they possibly do to stop him?

Orrin grabbed a chair and sat next to Nasuada's throne. "Now," he began, "Before I hear anything about your travels Eragon, Arya, I believe that both myself and Nasuada would like to know who you are," He pointed a finger at Aodhfin. The Dragonborn walked forward to stand in front of the rider and women.

"Indeed," said Nasuada as she watched him. "I don't know much about you, other than you fought Eragon and Arya and nearly won." She threw a quick glance at Eragon as if blaming him for her lack of knowledge. Her eyes then settled back on him, before they narrowed into a threating glare. "I also know that two of our best mind readers were unable to break the defenses around your mind."

Aodhfin shifted a little at that. He didn't really know what he could tell her about the mind reading, other than the truth. And that hadn't worked with Arya and Eragon. He couldn't lie now, so there was no real point in fretting over it.

"I am Aodhfin," He stated simply.

Orrin arched an eyebrow. "That's it? No surname? No titles? No… nothing?" The King gestured to him thoughtfully.

"No," he said as he pulled his hood down to reveal his face, trying not to flinch as he did so. His short black hair was a little dirty from the journey and his beard and mustache had grown out a little. On his face were five parallel scars that ran from the top of his right forehead to his lower left jaw. As a result, his nose was a little crooked at the top from the injury.

The two leaders looked at each other. Both of them clearly suspicious. Nasuada straightened her back against the chair. "It seems you have seen battle in your life," She said.

Aodhfin frowned. Was she daft? Of course he had, she had just said it. "Evidently," he retorted, trying to leave out any annoyance.

Orrin suddenly decided to cut into the discussion. "I don't mean to be blunt, but where are you from Aodhfin? Your name is unlike anything I've ever heard and I don't doubt that we couldn't profit from an alliance. After all we could use the support. We are fighting a war here, against a mad man, no less. Perhaps it would be beneficial -" He went on from there. It seemed that once he got his mouth up and running, he wouldn't shut up.

Aodhfin decided to use the time to come up with a little white lie. He had expected the question, but didn't exactly know how to answer it. He couldn't just say he was from another world. Though the single alien moon reminded him every night. But, that didn't mean they would believe him. Much less take him seriously after such a statement.

By the nine, he hadn't even seen a map of this place yet.

"-An army of mind reading defiant men would cripple Galbatorix's forces. We would-" Nasuada coughed slightly. Orrin paused and looked at her, confused, before he realized that he had been rambling on for far too long.

Nasuada took in a deep breath as if trying to calm herself. "As King Orrin said, we are all very curious." She said.

Yeah, he could tell. He could practically feel everyone's eyes on him.

"I am from the far north," Aodhfin said. Technically he wasn't lying. He may be powerful, but he didn't want to reveal all his secrets yet.

However it wasn't Nasuada or Orrin who answered him.

"North?" Arya was looking at him questionably. "Are you sure?"

Aodhfin tried not to scowl at her. "Yes."

She did not look convinced. Nasuada didn't either and Orrin seemed a little puzzled over the interaction. Then, he leaned back in his chair, apparently satisfied.

Nasuada sat up straighter and lifted her head. She reminded him of a king he once knew. "Aodhfin, from what I've heard, you seem to be a very promising warrior. You are arguably as powerful, if not more so, than any single elf." That was an understatement. Arya may have managed to get the drop on him, but he never made the same mistake twice and he didn't plan to the next time he faced them.

"However," She continued "I have found no real reason to trust you, much less join our cause. You're….interesting to say the least, but without a proper mind reading, I hesitate to let you stay at all."

He had to admit that Nasuada was right. They didn't have any reason to trust him. He would do the same if he were in her position. Yet, he could see the look of loss in her eyes. She knew that he could prove to be a valuable asset, but she was not willing to put her people at risk. Aodhfin thought that was admirable and she defiantly had his respect.

However, before he could do anything, Saphira suddenly moved. Her scales glittering purple from the red tint. Aodhfin flinched at the movement, anticipating an attack. His hand flew to his sword. The dragon twisted her head closer to his.

Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath as the two locked eyes. Aodhfin took a battle stance, ready for anything. Eragon seemed to reach for a sword, only to realize he didn't have one. Arya narrowed her eyes. Orrin and Nasuada just seemed surprised.

Saphira starred at him. Her gaze filled with a mix of curiosity, fear, and perhaps, recognition. Pressure leaned on his mind, like an invisible weight, again no pain this time. The dragons whispering inside him quieted and he felt them make the equivalent of a mental crouch as they prepared to catch their prey. This time, when the words came, the dragons snatched at them to form a single sentence.

 _Can you hear me, wingless one?_

At first, he was startled by it. He heard no voice; he just simply knew what was said. He wondered if he should answer. But it seemed the dragon souls made that decision for him, for they started shouting out greetings and practically their whole life stories in the dragon language before he could stop them.

In the end, Saphira snorted at the mental bombardment before closing the link. The dragon souls all grumbled before returning to their normal routine.

Shit. He hadn't known the dragons could do that.

Saphira then snaked her massive head to look straight at Nasuada and Orrin. They all seemed to converse in quiet whispers, expect the dragon.

Nasuada sighed at the end of the conversation. Uncertainty crossed her face and for some reason she looked at Eragon, as if for reassurance. Saphira moved her head out of the way. Orrin looked as though he was thinking about something.

Nasuada shut her eyes for a moment before opening them again. She gazed squarely at Aodhfin. "However, it would not benefit us if there was even the slightest chance you would join our enemy. Therefore, I welcome you to the Varden, Aodhfin. "

Aodhfin gave a slight nod of his head. "Thank you, Nasuada. Saphira." He thought it might be proper to bow, but immediately internally laughed at the idea. Dragons bow to no one, even if said dragon was wrapped in mortal flesh.

Neither Saphira nor Nasuada seem bothered by the lack of etiquette. "However, I will not let you roam about freely." Nasuada paused for a brief second before looking at Eragon with a bit of amusement. "No normal guard will stop you, I'm sure, so I'll have you camp next to Eragon and Saphira. Along with his guard of elves, I am sure that they will be more than enough for you to handle."

Aodhfin grinned a little at that. At least Nasuada wasn't dumb unlike a few other leaders he could name.

Not that he _wouldn't_ be able to take them all down.

The leader of the Varden suddenly became a little more smug. "I want you to report here, tomorrow at nine in the morning, in your armor to discover your full range of abilities. I want to know everything that you can do. I mean _everything_. No more vague answers like the ones you gave me today. Do you understand?"

"Fine," Aodhfin stated simply. He would go, but he didn't intend to reveal too much.

Nasuada didn't seem to like his response. She must have been used to the usual "Yes ma'am," by now. She looked to Orrin to see if he wanted to discuss anything else, but he simply shook his head. However, the king still had that curious gleam in his eye, yet he held himself back, perhaps because he realized that Aodhfin wasn't going to tell them anything else.

"You are dismissed. Eragon, inform the elves." Said Nasuada.

"I already have." Eragon said.

Aodhfin turned around and briskly walked out of the tent, quite relieved for it all to be over.

 _No_ , he thought. _It's only just begun_.

* * *

Later...

 _Saphira, just what were you thinking?!_

Eragon walked out of the pavilion just as the blue dragon pulled her head out of the tent. Eragon turned towards the direction of his tent as he tried to hide his horrified expression from the soldiers around him.

She snorted out a plume of smoke as she walked beside him. _I merely wished to speak with him._

Eragon look up at her skeptically. _If that's the case, then why haven't you told me what he said yet?_

Surprisingly, Saphira suddenly turned away from him. He could feel the worry and confusion come off of her in waves, though she tried to hide it.

 _Saphira?_ Eragon asked cautiously. He had never seen her like this before.

 _There is something wrong with him Eragon._ She said, he could hear the seriousness in her voice.

 _What do you mean?_

 _He does not feel right._ Saphira said _. He is not what he should be. I can feel power rolling off of him, I think that the elves can as well. Aodhfin is not human, Eragon…. He is…._

 _He is what?_

Saphira sighed. For a moment she said nothing. Eragon thought she might have simply wanted him to drop the subject, but Eragon needed to know what was bothering her.

 _He. Is. What?_ Eragon pressed her.

The dragon hissed at him. But she didn't do much else. There was a long pause before she finally said anything.

 _I think… he is a dragon in disguise._

Eragon looked up at Saphira in surprise. _Why do you think that?_

Saphira turned her head away, as if she would rather talk about something else. _He smells human, looks human, he even moves like a human. But he is not human. His eyes are not human. His power, his attitude, and the aura he emits. None of it is human. When I spoke to him, not just one, but many dragons answered me._

 _Like Murtagh?_

 _It was similar, but it was also different. As if they were communicating through him._

Eragon paused for a moment to think about what Saphira had said. Suddenly he gasped as he realized something. _What if there are other dragons out there? What if some dragons fled to the north? Perhaps they are using Aodhfin as a vessel to travel these lands without raising suspicion?_

Saphira laughed as she recalled the memories of Eragon's first encounter with Aodhfin. _If that is the case, then the only thing that they got right was the body._

Eragon grinned. _Right._ However, Saphira still seemed on edge. She didn't even seemed focused on what was in front of her as she stepped on some carts and nearly stumbled over her own feet several times.

 _Saphira?_ She didn't respond. Worried, Eragon decided to try to delve into her mind. He was surprised to find that her mental defenses were incredibly weak. He easily blew past them, and she didn't even seem to notice.

However, he was horrified by what he saw on the other side.

A maw, brown and red, not Saphira's, clamped down on the head of a human soldier, wearing strange armor. His fellow soldier screamed in a language similar to the one that Aodhfin spoke. Worst of all was the feeling of utter satisfaction that he felt from the creature that ate the man. Another flash, another vision, this time of fire pouring out of the maw and watching buildings burn. Then a thought flooded his mind.

 **Meyus joor**

The mind that thought such a thing was not human, nor elf, nor dragon. No, it was a monster.

Suddenly Saphira noticed his entrance. She hissed as she pushed him out of her mind. Eragon pulled back, leaving her to her thoughts. For what seemed like hours, they walked.

 _Aodhfin is not human._ Saphira said with certainty.

 _No._ Eragon looked up to see his tent. A large space had been provided for Saphira to lie in. Or in more extreme cases take off or land. A new tent was set up next to Eragon's. Just outside of it, the stranger calling himself Aodhfin was meticulously reassembling the scattered pieces of his demonic armor.

 _No he is not._

* * *

 _Later, somewhere between Leona Lake and Uru'bean..._

The stars twinkled in the sky like brilliant glowing diamonds. Neither the moon, nor a cloud was in sight. A strip of gas and dust rested in the sky, outlining the galaxy for the entire world to see. Not that this world knew that, yet.

Little streaks of light flew across the sky. Disappearing as fast as they had appeared. Small rocks finally losing the fight with the gravity of the planet they were to die on.

It was this sight that caused a young boy to stay up so late at night.

Elem, a curly brown haired, blue eyed boy, knew it was far past his bed time. If his parents caught him, he was sure to get a harsh spanking and then extra chores tomorrow. His mother might even take his favorite toy away again.

But, he risked it. Some could argue that since he was a boy that he naturally took risks. Some would say it was because he had sharp, brilliant, and inquisitive mind.

Others, however, would say it was destiny.

A bright light flashed in the sky.

Elem winched turning away from the light. He bit his lip to keep from crying out. Fear boiled in his stomach, yet before it could register, the light dimmed. The boy cautiously looked back towards the light.

A bright sapphire colored star came hurling downwards towards the earth. Its glow radiating out over the land, a loud whine echoed over every hill and mountain as it descended. Elem watched in stupid amazement as it continued to find its way to the ground, instead of disappearing like the others.

The light swerved. Elem jumped at the sudden movement. It arced down toward the fields that lay before the house. The blue flame dissipated into a brilliant gold. Elem stared at it in wonder, too young to understand the danger it could pose.

Then, to the boy's utter surprise, the golden light hit the ground. The earth shook and rumbled, knocking the boy down. The back of his head almost connected to a wooden post on his bed, yet somehow he didn't hit it.

Elem immediately stood up. He looked out his window to behold a massive smoking crater. With an excited grin on his face, Elem climbed over the window seal and dropped down to the ground on the other side. His bare feet touched the cold grass and rough ground. There was no fear in his heart, only wonder and joy as he ran towards the crater.

He didn't hear the warning cries of his mother.

Elem reached the crater in record time. At first the hot ground hurt, but it cooled quickly and he made his way through the small canyon that the impact had made. Genuine curiosity drove him as he reached the center.

He stopped at the edge and stared.

For this was no ordinary crater. There was no rock in the center. No, instead there was something much more important and earth shattering than anything that could have hailed from the outer depths of space.

What sat in the deep hole was what could only be described as a shining, golden _scroll_.

Almost hypnotically, Elem walked towards the scroll. He was entranced by its beauty and elegance. It was made so flawlessly; surely it couldn't have been made by human hands.

Slowly he knelt down before the tome. For a moment he stared at it. The shouting of his father was only a distant whisper.

Then, he reached out a hand and touched it.

He half expected something to happen, but nothing did. He ran his fingers over the surface. It felt like soft silk, yet hard tough steel at the same time. He could feel a force running through the scroll.

Elem traced the outline of every detail. From the elaborate design at its bases to the star on the center of the cylinder, then he found what he had been subconsciously looking for.

He grabbed a small cylinder on the bottom and slowly he pulled, until it would go no further.

At first all he saw was fine gold parchment.

Then, the light of a million suns burst into existence, etching symbols into both the boys mind and eyes.

Elem screamed. His eyes felt like they were on fire.

And he continued to scream, even after his father found him, throwing the alien scroll away from his son. It took hours for Elem to stop screaming.

A group of soldiers arrived at the home. First a mage examined the boy's eyes and tried to heal them, only to find that something blocked his power. He told the frightened mother to wait it out. The others recovered the scroll, though they dare not touch it, much less read it.

After many days having cold water dabbed onto his eyes, Elem opened them once more.

Only to find that all he could see where the blue symbols that the scroll had cursed him with.

* * *

 **And the plot thickens. Clearly some serious shit has just happened.**

 **Meyus joor = Foolish mortals**

 **Anyways, review, tell me what you think (Or whatever you want to say). No flames please. I will only respond politely to constructive criticism or overall happy/neutral comments. Or else….**

 **Tell me if there are any errors too… because that would help a lot.**

 **Well, till next chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Hey guys I know it's been a while, so here is a long awaited chapter of Fire Winds. Originally I planned to release this on New Year's Eve and be like "Hey, I updated twice in one year!" but then… well… yeah…. It didn't happen. I'm a terrible person…**_

 _ **Anyways, I'll talk more at the end when you have the patience for it.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

Fire Winds

Chapter 4

Aodhfin had spent the rest of the afternoon attending to his armor. Luckily, Arya hadn't completely ruined the straps. Some soldiers had set up the tent prior to his arrival – it seemed that Nasuada had been planning on him joining even before he arrived at the Varden encampment.

Two elves had watched him the entire time. They glanced at him when he summoned the armor from his inventory; it was the only sign that they were even curious about the spell. Beyond that, they didn't do much else other than stand a good distance away.

Eragon and Saphira returned later. Aodhfin was almost done fixing the armor and while Eragon completely avoided him, his dragon laid fairly close to him. She watched as he continued his work, but didn't do much else.

A few minutes later, the dragon rider leaped onto his dragon, saying that he had to go meet with Nasuada. Aodhfin answered with a simple grunt, too enthralled in his work to care very much. Then they flew into the sky, the Dragonborn barely batting an eye at the powerful take off.

Aodhfin took a look at the front of his helmet. He hadn't looked at it since Arya made him store it and he didn't want to risk unsettling them by taking it out. A small part of him expected there to be a dent or a scratch from Arya's unexpectedly powerful attack. But upon inspection, he found nothing. As was to be expected; daedric armor was primarily for defense – it could hold up against pretty much anything – while its counterpart, dragonbone, was better for offense. For a moment, he wondered why the defense enchantment hadn't held up; he shouldn't have gotten knocked out, no matter how hard Arya hit him. Unless, of course, she really had hit as hard as Alduin, but, he doubted it. Something had gone wrong, he just didn't know what.

Aodhfin sighed. He would have to figure it out later. Without the tools for making an enchantment, there was no way he could fix it now.

After that, he assembled, checked, rechecked, and then cleaned all his armor and weapons, then set them down in his tent before allowing himself into the cot.

* * *

When he woke up, the sun was only an hour away from rising.

Aodhfin sat up. He took a second to glance at his armor and weapons, just to make sure they were really there.

He took off the cape he had worn all night, folded it and laid it on top of the cot. From there he took off the gauntlets and boots he was wearing. Then, Aodhfin crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knees.

For a moment he ran through every word and symbol he knew in the ancient dragon tongue. Each word flowing through his mind from the mouths of the dragons within him. He echoed their answers, trying to memorize each word without their help, but their voices always broke through his concentration. Paarthurnax had wanted him to at least try to know the words so that if there ever came a time he didn't have the dragons, he could still at the very least read the words and understand them.

He didn't have much success. The souls continued their endless chant. It seemed impossible to learn the language naturally. Speaking of language…

 **"Laas"** he whispered. He felt a slight drain on his soul as the shout was summoned. His vision was filled with wisps of red light, highlighting the souls of all the living creatures around him. The light of Saphira laying outside was the largest and the brightest.

He didn't hear the strange whisper of the translation spell when he said the word. But, that didn't mean that it wouldn't work when he was around others. He should try it around some soldiers later.

Putting that problem aside temporarily, Aodhfin stood up and stretched out his sore limbs. He exchanged his ragged traveler's clothes for the cloths that kept the metal and skin separated. Aodhfin then slid on his enchanted rings and necklaces.

As he suited up in his deadric armor, he thought about the translation spell Arya had cast on him. It had worked so far, but he was concerned that it might suddenly stop. The two had also made it unable to translate that other language. The fact bothered him. Not everyone here seemed to understand the second language. What were they hiding…

Either way, he needed to learn their language in case of that event. Hopefully he could find someone to help him.

As he hooked up each piece of armor he immediately felt a sense of immense relief. The armor and weapons had served him well ever since he had forged them.

After finishing with the armor, he grabbed the hilt of his flame enchanted sword, Blitz Cannon. He ran a hand down its sharp blade, remembering how cleanly it had sliced through Harkon's neck and then burst the monster into flames, ending the reign of the Vampire King. He slid the sword into its sheath on his left hip.

He picked up Soul Rupture. The only major opponent that he had slayed with this sword was Alduin. That day had been a frighting one. He thought he had a major advantage with the three other dragon slayers at his side, but in the end they had fallen. He had lost the original Blitz Cannon to the heat of Alduin's flame, the metal had been bent and twisted so much that it didn't look like a sword. But, he had managed to keep Soul Rupture out of the god's blaze. He had stabbed the sword into Alduin's brain after blinding the great god of destruction.

He sheathed Soul Rupture to his opposite hip and then picked up his helmet. Tucking it under his arm, he exited the tent to reveal the first light of dawn creeping into the sky. Saphira lay sleeping next to Eragon's tent. He paused next to her, curious at how she looked. Then, he realized that he had never seen a dragon sleep before. They had lain down, sure, but had never slept in his presence, not even Paarthurnax or Odahviing.

The she-dragon breathed slowly and heavily, small streams of smoke drifted from her nostrils. The small whisker things on the top of her head twitched every now and then. Her chest rose and fell evenly, though it was a bit hard to tell because her wings hid most of her torso.

Aodhfin listened to her slow, methodical breathing for a moment longer. For some reason, he felt a bit comforted by it. But then, he turned his attention away from the sapphire dragon, and after putting his helmet on he began to wander the camp grounds.

He first found his way back to the red pavilion where Nasuada stayed. The guards at the entrance where still standing, completely vigilant and ready for combat with anyone who dared to enter. They twitched when he rounded the corner, but didn't attack him. They merely settled with glaring.

After that he tried to find the training grounds that the Varden wanted to test him at. The elves had told him where it was when he first arrived at his tent. As he made his way to the training area, some soldiers that were awake or just getting up would gawk at his appearance. One even drew his blade and watched cautiously as the Dragonborn walked by, not quite sure what to do.

Gods. Did he really look that terrifying?

These people were all a strange mix of Redguard, Imperial, and Breton all smashed into one. None, but that small group he had seen earlier were anything like the Nords of Skyrim. They all seemed a little frail and weak compared to the hardier people of the north.

An ache began in his mind. Aodhfin wasn't too concerned though. The dragons increased their mindless rambling.

"Hello." A woman said.

Aodhfin came to a stop. He looked to his sides to find where the voice had come from.

"Down here." She seemed annoyed.

Looking down he was somewhat surprised to see a small child looking back up at him. She was wearing a ragged white dress and her black hair was in a bun. The expression on her face looked curious, but she seemed to also be in deep concentration. Her purple eyes were strange and stared up at him accusingly. A small blue, glowing star was carved onto her forehead. The girl couldn't have been older than four, but he had sworn he had heard an adults voice.

She suddenly arched an eyebrow. "You're not surprised?" She said. She was, indeed the source of the voice he had heard.

"You think I'm not?" He asked her. He crouched down to her level, one knee touching the ground.

The girl laughed. "Not as much as I expected," She admitted. She grasped her dress and twirled it like a young girl would. In a squeaky child's voice, she said, "I'm not a normal girl." She tucked her chin in as if she was shy.

She was right. She wasn't normal, but she wasn't the strangest person he had ever meet.

"I can see that," He retorted. The girl stopped her child like behavior, frowned and glared at him.

"You don't even care, do you?" She said, throwing off the façade.

"Not really,"

The girl stared at him. She looked taken aback, but was desperately trying to hide it. It was obvious that she wasn't used to this kind of treatment. She gripped her dress with clenched hands. Then suddenly, she burst into laughter. The sound silenced everyone in the area as they all froze. Aodhfin frowned.

After a moment the girl's laughter faded to soft giggles.

"No, you wouldn't, now would you…" She looked into his eyes. She shook her head, "My name is Elva."

"That's a nice name." Aodhfin said. "I am-"

Elva raised a hand for him to stop. "I already know who you are," She looked into his eyes and smiled, "You're Erebus."

His breath hitched. Aodhfin recoiled, slowly standing back up. He was glad he had his helmet on. "Wha- how- what makes you say that?" he cursed his stuttering.

The girl's smile only seemed to get wider. "Oh, sorry, its Aodhfin right? Huh," She shrugged, "Don't know where I got that other name from."

Aodhfin looked into her eyes. They seemed dead and cruel, as if the girl had endured some immense torture, as if she knew things most her age should not know.

"Yes, it's Aodhfin." He affirmed.

Elva nodded and then looking up at the sky, saying, "My, my, looks like you have to go, I believe it's almost time for you to meet with Nasuada."

Aodhfin glanced at the sky to see the suns position. "You're right," he said. This girl certainly knew a lot about the Varden's operations.

"I'll see you later then," Then Elva left without a second thought.

Aodhfin watched her for a few seconds before resuming his trek. That girl knew more than anyone should have known. He hadn't told anyone about Erebus yet. How could she have known? Did she read his mind? But, that hadn't worked with anyone else. She was definitely strange. What other powers could she possibly have?

He put those thoughts to the side as he neared the training area. It was in a large space among the camps. The forge had been set up nearby, weapons and armor stacking in neat rows on racks that could be loaded into a wagon. Soldiers were everywhere, practicing with their weapons or sorting through the forge. Drill sergeants were here and there with groups of men each of them shouting orders. Some were even doing something with horses.

However, a fairly large space had been cleared out. Standing near it where the elves that had been assigned to Eragon, who was also there. Saphira was as well. The great dragon was laying down, clearly bored.

Nasuada was just dismounting her horse, along with her guards, a fair number of troops, King Orrin, and about twenty other people he didn't know. Some of them appeared to be generals or nobles. But, one of them was the man that he had seen Eragon greet when they had first arrived.

Through the shuffling of Nasuada's dress he thought he saw Elva. But if it was her, she quickly disappeared from his sight.

Aodhfin really wasn't looking forward to this. The last time anyone had been interested in his abilities, there had been a huge power struggle that had only intensified the civil war in Skyrim.

One of the elves spotted him, they did not look amused. The two elves that were guarding him must have not been awake when he left his tent.

Aodhfin approached the group everyone looking at him curiously. He then noticed an elf that looked a lot like Arya.

Oh, wait. That was Arya.

"Hello, Aodhfin. We are pleased to see that you have arrived on time." Nasuada announced his presence to anyone that cared to know.

The group turned their heads. Some people completely freaked out at the sight of him, namely the noble women, for some reason. Eragon and all the elves weren't the least bit surprised, nor was Nasuada, she had obviously been expecting his appearance or just hid her reaction very well. Most of the generals looked at him as if he was crazy.

King Orrin and one other man stared at him in complete wonder, as if he was some priceless artifact that held amazing secrets.

Saphira lifted her head, and opened her eyes, but that was all.

The closer he got, the further away the nobles seemed to want to be. Aodhfin decided to give them a little relief and he removed his helmet, which he tucked beneath his arm. It seemed to calm them somewhat.

Once he stopped, Nasuada walked up next to him. She put a hand on his arm, but it felt more like she was merely brushing the armor plates.

"Aodhfin is our newest addition to the Varden. He is not an official member, but he has power comparable to that of an elf," Nasuada said. One of the general huffed in disbelief. She stepped away from him a little. "However, we have yet to test these abilities ourselves. That is why we are gathered here today. Today, Aodhfin will combat Arya, as she requested. No magic, that will come after the duel. Afterwards," Nasuada looked directly into his eyes, "We would like some questions answered."

"Indeed," Eragon added.

There was a long awkward pause. Then, Aodhfin realized that they expected him to say something.

"Of course," He said and gave a small nod.

Nasuada smiled in approval, "Alright, let's begin."

Nasuada turned to the crowd. "Arya and Aodhfin will now engage in combat. This is merely a sparring match, not to the death. Arya will test Aodhfin as she did Eragon in Farthen Dûr. Arya, would you do the honors."

The elf, Arya, walked up to him. She unsheathed her sword, but instead of attacking she laid her fingers on the edges, she said some words in the alien language as she ran her fingers along the sharp points.

Once she was finished she sheathed the blade. Looking up at him, she said, "I need to see your blades."

"Why?"

"I can put a false edge on the blades. To prevent any serious injuries." The elf then offered her hand.

Aodhfin remembered the last time anyone had used magic on him. "Are sure that will work?"

Arya arched an eyebrow. "Of course it will."

Aodhfin then put his helm back on to free his hands. He drew his right-handed sword first. Arya took it from his hands and pinched the bottom edge first. She muttered some of the alien words before a green spark ignited between the two fingers. She began to trace the sharp blade.

Then the spark flickered out.

Her eyes widened in surprise. She looked confused. In fact, she seemed so surprised that it actually showed on her face, and as far as he had seen, none of the elves liked to show any kind of emotion whatsoever. Eragon, and all the other nobles and delegates there watched curiously. Nasuada did not look happy at all.

Arya's face screwed up for a moment before she seemed to suddenly realize what she was doing, then her face went blank again.

Saying the words to the spell again, Arya continued to trace the blade. The spark in her fingers flickered out several more times before she was done. She handed the blade back to him, thankful that she didn't have to deal with it anymore. He sheathed it, then reached for his second blade. Arya glared at it, as if daring it to defy her.

And, it did. Presenting the same problems as the first blade.

Aodhfin didn't show it, but he was just as confused as Arya was. Neither of the blades had a resist magic enhancement. Why was it repelling the magic?

As Aodhfin sheathed his other blade, he and Arya took their positions, standing a good distance away from each other. The crowd of nobles and generals stood from the side lines. Eragon took his place next to his leader. Saphira watched them move as she softly blew smoke from her nostrils.

"All right," Nasuada said, her eyes flickering between both of them. She raised a hand.

"Begin!"

Arya wasted absolutely no time. The elf struck before Nasuada's hand even reached her waist. Her sword in hand, gripped with fierce determination.

Aodhfin saw her move as he reached for his right hand sword. She was fast. Faster than any Tamriel elf that he had ever seen in his life. It almost surprised him. Almost. She seemed to cover the space between them faster than an arrow.

He changed tactics, pulling out the dagger that hid in his left shoulder pad. It slid out easily, just as it was meant to, and right before the elf sword came near his armor, he caught the blade with the dagger. The force that Arya used causing him slide against the ground, his boots burying into the ground. The dagger flashed blue as it made contact, a thin layer of ice creeping over the elf's blade.

Arya actually seemed a little surprised. "You didn't tell me you had any knives."

Aodhfin leaned in close. "No, I didn't." He growled before shoving her away.

She stumbled, leaping further away. She had planted one foot on the ground once she got a comfortable distance away. Without a second thought, he threw the dagger at her head. She clearly hadn't been expecting the attack. Arya wildly turned her head away as she let gravity help her doge it. The dagger would have scarred her cheek, but it bounced off an invisible shield before it shred through some of her black hair leaving a frozen lock to fall to the ground.

The dagger landed on the ground, its tip firmly driven in to the dirt.

Arya glanced at the dagger before taking a deep breath and gasping her sword with both hands. She looked over his armor, as if trying to determine what else he could be hiding. She didn't seem very eager to outright attack him.

Aodhfin drew both blades from their sheaths, he still hadn't even taken a single step yet and she was already cautious. They watched each other for few long seconds.

Arya moved first. She gracefully leapt forward, almost as if she was dancing. She swiped her blade at his torso. He caught her blade with his left hand sword. She stepped back, unlocking their swords. She feinted to the right. Aodhfin took his first step to move his chest out of the way. For a moment it seemed like he was completely vulnerable, Arya even smiled. Her blade seemed like a blurr before it impacted with his right handed sword.

Arya glared at him before stepping back out of his swords reach.

Aodhfin faced her, he took a battle stance, bending his knees and protecting his chest and head with the swords. He watched every movement she made. Every breath, every shiver, every twitch told him something. Whether it would be her next move, or merely her attitude, or something else entirely. All of it he could use to his advantage.

He may have underestimated her the first time they fought on the open plains. But he would not allow her to get the better of him a second time.

Arya smirked. She gracefully bounded to his side and swung her blade. Aodhfin reacted faster than the elf anticipated though. He blocked her blade with his own and pushed them down to the ground, leaving the elf open. Arya lost her smile as she gritted her teeth.

The Dragonborn swung his right blade, intending to cleave her in two. However, she yanked her sword out at the last minute and managed to move out of the way.

But, this time Aodhfin wouldn't let her get away so easily. He swung his right blade back when it missed its target, moving closer to the retreating Arya. Then he attacked with his left blade. He kept swinging his blades using his momentum to his advantage as he changed his tactic at random.

Energy poured out from his soul and into his limbs. His vision sharpened. Aggression and hate floated on the borders of his mind, waiting for any chance to slip in and control him. It was his dragon half, trying to take control of what it had lost. He resisted it, just as Paarthurnax had taught him to. Yet, he used its power to his advantage.

Arya found a way to dodge or block each attack, but at the same time, she was permanently on the defensive, unable to counterattack. He could see the frustration in her eyes, despite her blank face.

The attack went on for longer than Aodhfin would have liked, but he wanted to test Arya's limits. However, the alien elf proved to have much better endurance than that of the high elves he usually killed.

Arya suddenly made a bold move and tried to at least attempt to break his focus to escape, but Aodhfin noticed the change in movement, he knocked the sword aside before continuing.

It soon became clear that he was getting nowhere. Arya's stamina seemed nigh on limitless, while his slowly trickled away. If he was going to do something, he might as well do it now.

Instead of attacking with his swords, Aodhfin kicked the elf. Arya had not been expecting the change. She had gotten into a rhythm of deflecting his swords that she probably had thought he didn't have the energy to change his attack.

His boot landed square in her gut, she flew backwards, but didn't fall. Aodhfin struck as she recovered, using both of his sword at once. Arya's face was covered with surprise and horror as the swords descended on her.

She barely managed to block his right hand blade. He thought he had her as he made to stab with his left, however Arya caught his wrist and slid unexpectedly close to him. He leapt back.

"Forget something?" Arya twirled a daedric dagger in her right hand, the shock enchantment sparking on the blade.

Aodhfin glared at her from behind the helmet.

"Don't worry," She looked back at him, an amused grin on her face. "You can have it back," She then threw the dagger at him, as he had done to her.

He deflected the dagger and it flew to the ground. Arya used his distraction to her advantage, she charged at him, intending to run him through.

But, like before, he blocked her attack. She jumped back before he could trap her again.

This was getting annoying. Normally, he would have just used a shout by now, but he didn't want these people to know what he was really capable of. It might just cause more problems that he didn't want to deal with.

He needed to end this fight though. Arya wasn't getting slower like he expected her to.

Arya attempted to start a circling maneuver and Aodhfin followed her lead, never taking his eyes off of her. The elf then jumped at him swinging her sword which the dragonborn dodged and then attacked with his own weapons. Arya swerved around the blades.

Aodhfin hissed. Arya was toying with him. She knew he couldn't keep this up. He was too used to quick battles with weaker opponents. The last time he had been a fight that dragged out this long was with a revered dragon by the name of Fiikfeynmaar. And he was a huge fire breathing reptile, not some quick footed elf.

Arya made to take off his head. Seconds before the blade hit, Aodhfin moved, and dodged the attack. He turned as he swiped with both swords. Arya gracefully twirled out of the way.

Damn it. If only he could find some opening. Arya looked confident on the outside, but he could tell that she was surprised he had lasted this long. If only he could use a shout…

Arya bounded to his back, she swung her blade. It was little more than a blur, but Aodhfin still managed to catch the blade with his own. Arya jumped away again as Aodhfin turned around to face her.

His dragon half pushed at the boundaries of his conciseness. Begging him to accept the power that it had, to be consumed by it. It whispered to him. That Arya would win if he didn't let down the barriers. The dragons in his soul hummed with approval.

Aodhfin tried to quiet the raging power. He would not fall into that trap a second time. He would not fail Paarthurnax.

Arya charged. The elf started with a kick. Aodhfin growled in annoyance, the anger from his dragon half slipping in. Instead of dodging he wrapped his arm around the limb, determined to finish the fight. The elf attacked him with her sword despite the setback.

Aodhfin miss judged the arc of the blade and her sword impacted with his gauntlet. He gritted his teeth before throwing it off. The elf arched her back to avoid the path of his sword. Arya let a slight smile cross her face. She kicked with other free leg and pushed off of his armor while managing to wriggle the other out of his grip.

She got a good distance away from him and gripped her sword's hilt, prepared for anything. "I must say," She began, "This is proving to be an interesting spar."

The dragonborn responded with silence. He let a steady stream of energy from his dragon half pour into his body. The world sharpened once more and he felt his tired limbs fill with strength again.

Arya made to run at him, but he didn't let her. Instead he moved first, crouching and rotating the swords in his hands, their blades pointing behind him. He put his left hand on the ground in front of him. He had learned this attack from his time as a werewolf. He integrated the wolves hunting techniques into actual combat, combining it with several other martial arts. He never liked to use it unless he was fighting a particularly difficult humanoid opponent. It didn't really work against something like a dragon.

He pushed off the ground and with startling speed. It was time he showed her his own power.

Arya hadn't been expecting it. However, she still stepped out of the way.

Aodhfin smiled beneath his helmet. She had taken the bait. He turned on a dime, his body straining to keep up with his mental commands. Arya tried in vain to leap out of the way.

His swords impacted with the shields around Arya's torso, just as a sharp pain flared in his back. The metal rigging in his ears as sparks ignited as metal scraped against metal. Crap, Arya had managed stab him, Though the armor protected him from any physical injury.

The elf groaned as she stepped away. She dropped her sword and held her side. Aodhfin shook off the blow to his back as he stood. The pain causing him to wince. He then realized that the defense magic on his armor had failed again, leaving him with a bruise.

He heard Arya drop to the ground. He turned around to see her curled up and grasping at her side. She wheezed and gritted her teeth in pain.

"What did you do?!" Eragon yelled at him as he ran up to the elf. Nasuada, the elves, and a few others were following behind him.

Eragon crouched down next to Arya. "What's wrong?" he said to her softly. She merely groaned in response.

Nasuada looked over the elf. "Get me a physician," She said over her shoulder. Someone left to obey her.

"There is no need," The blue furred elf stared blankly as he kneeled down.

Nasuada nodded. "I know, it's just in case we need extra help."

Aodhfin looked the elf over. She was clutching the side where he had hit her. But, her shields should have blocked his attack, even if they didn't he knew that the spell on the swords would have kept them from harming her.

The Dragonborn tilted his swords so he could see their blades. Soul Rupture was as clean as it had ever been with only a little dirt at its tip. However, Blitz Cannon was stained with dark red blood that dripped down to the ground in small rivers, the blade flashing red and orange.

"The magic, it failed," he stated. Eragon glanced up at him and his eyes flickered to him and then to his swords. Rage ignited in the dragon rider's eyes before he directed his attention back to Arya. Blödhgarm slowly pried away Arya's hands.

Arya hissed with pain as she let out air through her teeth. "It burns."

As Blödhgarm kept Arya's hands away, Eragon hiked up her shirt, only just enough to reveal the wound. The other elves were softly whispering words in the magic language that they used.

Nasuada looked away from them. "Surround him," She gestured towards Aodhfin.

A group of men encircled the Dragonborn, their weapons drawn. But, Aodhfin did nothing to stop them, he didn't need to. They didn't really matter.

Nasuada squeezed her way into the circle, her personal guards going nuts as she entered without them ahead of her. When she was finally through, she took a moment to straighten out her dress and brush off some dust.

"I know you're powerful Aodhfin," She began, "but no matter how strong you are, that little trick you pulled, intentional or not, is going to get you killed." She gave him an unwavering stare as she clasped her hands in front of her. "You're strange, different. Everyone here knows it. You don't belong here or anywhere. That fact makes you unbelievably dangerous. Now, I don't believe you intended this. Eragon, Arya, even Saphira, has told me that magic isn't normal around you."

She sighed and then rocked on her heels for a split second before returning to her rigid stance. "But I can't let you go. I can't let you join Galbatorix, I would rather that you were dead than that. But, I don't want that either, we need someone like you. Eragon, Saphira, the elves, the dwarves, the urgals, they just aren't enough against the enemy we face."

Nasuada took a step towards him. "So tell me Aodhfin, is it better to kill you or keep you here?"

For a moment, he didn't answer. Neither of them moved. They both stared at one another as if fighting some invisible battle.

Aodhfin shifted, taking a step back. The men took a battle stance, ready for anything. He raised his flame enchanted sword, pointing it at the leader of the Varden, blood dripping from its serrated edge. "If you try to kill me, I'll kill you first," He sternly stated.

"I was afraid you would say that," Nasuada looked a bit sad. However, she was interrupted from doing anything else when Eragon let out a loud curse. His dragon approached, her teeth bared as she stared down at her rider.

Nasuada turned her head slightly, keeping her eye on the Dragonborn. "What's wrong?" She called.

Aodhfin saw one of the elves stand from behind the guards. "Our magic is not working. We only managed to partially seal the wound. But, nothing else is happening." The elf responded. She looked a bit panicked.

A look of shock passed over the leaders face and she directed her full attention to the elf. "What do you mean!?" She practically shoved the guards out of the way as she left the circle.

Aodhfin watched as he relaxed his arm, letting his sword rest at his side again. The elves and Nasuada clambered around behind the circle of guards.

"Why won't it work?" Nasuada asked the other elves.

"We don't know," Blödhgarm answered. "We can only give her our strength for now. But, the wound must be sealed soon."

He saw Nasuada bend down to get a closer look. "I see," she said solemnly. Then she stood and turned around. "Out of the way!" She commanded the soldiers and the two in her way parted.

Nasuada approached him. Aodhfin made small circles with his sword in warning. She ignored it, instead opting to stand as close to him as she possibly could.

"Do you think you can fix this?" She said.

Aodhfin thought about it for a second. Yes, he could, he knew how. But, would the magic really work? For all he knew, it could end up hurting Arya more than it helped her.

"Maybe," He answered.

Nasuada was not pleased by that, but she seemed somewhat relieved. "At least it's better than nothing." She then grabbed his arm, something he wasn't expecting, and then pulled him to the wounded elf.

She stood out of the way. "Hurry," She urged him.

Eragon glared at the Dragonborn, but moved away, just enough to let him see Arya's injury. The other elves stood nearby, still, but ready for anything. One elf cradled Arya's head.

Arya was pale and she breathed heavily. She looked terribly sick as her face tensed up and she tried to curl up into a fetal position. She was still conscious though, mumbling some random words that didn't make any sense. Her head lolled back and forth as if she was trapped in a nightmare.

Aodhfin sheathed his swords before kneeling down to get a better look. The sword had cut a clean line across her stomach and the wound was matted with blood. She wasn't bleeding now though, probably from something the elves did.

He reached out a hand and laid it on the wound. Arya winced as Eragon hesitantly retracted his hands to give the armored man more room.

"What makes you think you'll do any better than us?" the half elf said grimly.

He didn't bother to look at the boy. "Her injury was caused by my swords, perhaps my magic can repair her wounds…"

"Your magic? What are you talking about?" Eragon arched a brow.

Aodhfin mentally cringed. He shouldn't have said that. But, it didn't matter right now.

He summoned magic from within his reserves. Something he didn't have much of, but regardless, it would suffice for this task. His hand began to glow as golden ribbons of light swirled around it. Eragon and everyone else watching jumped in surprise, obviously not expecting the light.

The light spread into Arya's wound. It was barely noticeable at first. Then, slowly, it crawled through the elf's veins, highlighting the vessels in the light of suns. The magic engulfed the wound and the glowing ribbons trickled out, unrestrained by the confines of gravity. Particles, like tiny stars, flowed into the air around the ribbons and then faded away.

Aodhfin felt his magicka drain away. The skin around Arya's wound cleanly pulled back into its original place as the magic restored the missing pieces. Soon enough the light flickered out. A half healed scar was all that was left.

Arya's body relaxed as she opened her tear filled eyes. Aodhfin leaned back and stood up, his work done.

"Arya?" Eragon whispered to the elf.

Arya groaned as she rubbed the sweat and water from her face. She stared at Eragon for moment before sitting up. She looked a little stunned.

"Aodhfin," It was Nasuada, standing some ways off from the rest of the group. She motioned for him to come towards her.

He left Arya and the elves and headed towards the Varden's leader. "What?" He asked once he was close enough. He saw her twitch somewhat, not in annoyance, but more in surprise. She was far too used to receiving the royal treatment.

"What was that?" She demanded.

"Magic," He answered a little annoyed.

She looked skeptical. A frown creasing her mouth. "Tell me, Aodhfin…" She looked into the general area of his eyes, "…Where do you come from? And don't tell me 'north'."

Aodhfin sighed. "It doesn't matter. You wouldn't be able to get there."

"I beg to differ," She retorted.

A small chuckle echoed into the air. "A world called Nirn." A familiar voice said from behind the Varden's leader. "On the continent of Tamriel," A little girl appeared from behind Nasuada. The older woman looked at her curiously. Aodhfin stood completely stunned. It was almost like he had been hit in the chest.

Elva smiled as she stood next to Nasuada, a little grin on her face. "Ever since you came to Alagaësia you've been lost in a land that is familiar yet completely alien to you. Every night you look up and see a foreign sky. You're not from here."

"Elva never lies," Nasuada mused as she turned to him. "I asked her to use her abilities to find out anything she could about you. Though, the results are certainly… not what I was expecting."

Aodhfin glared at the little girl. She hid behind Nasuada's skirt, pretending to act like a child her age should.

Nasuada gripped his arm, examining the armor with a new glint in her eyes. "To think, this was strong enough to deflect an elven blade. And your skills…" She looked up at him. "Perhaps you are the answer to all our prayers."

Aodhfin narrowed his eyes at her, but then looked away. He had always been everyone's savior. When he originally came to Skyrim it was to escape those who hunted him. After Helgen, responsibilities kept dropping his shoulders like rain drops the size of oceans. Responsibilities he hadn't been ready for. When he defeated Alduin, he thought that fate would leave him alone, but alas the vampire attacks began. Then Miraak. Now this. Hell, he wasn't even in Skyrim.

He was tired of helping people. Why couldn't they solve their own problems…

If that was true, then why did he bother joining the Varden? He knew what would happen if he did, yet he still followed Eragon and Arya.

"Aodhfin?" Nasuada began. "Please, I'm asking you, not just as the leader of the Varden, but as the representative of all the people of Alagaësia to help us. Help us to free ourselves of Galbatorix, and I guarantee you that we will help you find your way home."

It wasn't an impressive speech or anything, not even motivating in any way. In fact, she was trying to manipulate him with the promise of returning to Skyrim. He just hadn't been expecting it in the first place. Did she really think that he was so open to simply leaving them? Did he want to leave them? Let them deal with their own problems?

"I've already sworn to help you." He answered.

"Yes, but you don't seem like you really want to." Nasuada said.

Aodhfin shook his head slowly. "I will keep my word," he insisted. He turned towards the edge of the camp. He hadn't expected any of them to find out about his origin so soon. Events were escalating too quickly and he needed to be somewhere alone.

"Aodhfin," The woman began, "Where are you planning to go? We have much to discuss, especially now..." She trailed off when Elva tugged at her skirt like some disapproving child.

"Later, then we'll talk. I need to do something." He said, completely disregarding her commands.

Nasuada frowned. "Not everyone will know. Just the elves, Eragon, and Saphira," She promised him.

Aodhfin gave her a glance. A silent promise that he would return. However, she gave him a hard glare. He could see her mind work behind those eyes, distinguishing ever possibility that could play out. Her hands clasped firmly together as if she was quietly accepting his declaration of war.

After that, he didn't stay long content with brushing off her plans. He slipped away, ducking into a tent and activating an invisibility spell. He then grabbed an amulet in his inventory and slipped it on. It was a silver necklace with a nightingale imprinted on a small metal plate on the chain. Their where several enchantments on it, most having to do with absolute invisibility. However, its main power was that it increased the duration of an invisibility spell. He had found it long ago, back when he lived in Cyrodiil. Stole it off some dead dumbass who had tried to rob a noble. The necklace had come in handy ever since then. For instance, when he would sneak away from the two lost heroes.

After making sure he was truly invisible, Aodhfin carefully lifted the tent flap, opening it as little as possible. He didn't want his elven guards to follow him. Nasuada expected him to follow orders, but that didn't mean that she had to know about it.

He didn't see anyone follow him out, but just in case he took a detour before exiting the maze of tents. Once he could no longer see the camp he decided that he was in a good spot to think things over.

But before he did that…

" **DUR, NEH, VIIR"**

The energy of the shout crashed to the ground, creating a circle of purple and black energy. Electric sparks filled the sky as they shout out of the portal. He backed away, shielding himself. Then, the circle dipped down, reaching through time and space. A dark shape rose out of the portal.

Well, this definitely changes things…

* * *

"Did you find out anything?" Arya asked the small girl. Elva turned away from her, not in disrespect, but she was simply following the orders of her leader.

"Yes," Nasuada answered for the blessed girl. Eragon jogged to meet with them after have a short talk with his cousin, Roran. "However," She continued, "We will have to discuss the matter later, and in private."

"What will we discuss?" Eragon questioned. He hadn't known about the plan to have Elva gather information about Aodhfin. The half elf eyed the women curiously.

"Our newcomer," Nasuada explained. Then she looked at Elva. "Did you get anything else from him?"

"I can only get general information from him. Things that he thinks of often I can… translate from the rest of the gibberish in his head." The girl had a troubled look in her eyes. Which made sense. Elva was probably used to being able to access anyone and everyone's minds no matter what the situation was.

Nasuada nodded in understanding. "How are you holding up Arya?"

"Fine," The elven princess replied, "Though, I suspect that I may carry this scar for the rest of my life." She softly traced the bump with her hand.

"Do you think the attack was intentional?"

"The attack? Yes. The harm that would come from it? No. Aodhfin was just as surprised as I was when it happened."

"The magic," Eragon began, "It faltered, broke down as time passed."

Arya nodded. "However, the spell you used on him at the fields broke down imedia-"

Nasuada let out a soft cough. The two turned towards her. "I don't mean to interrupt," She apologized, "But, this breaking down, only makes Aodhfin more valuable and more dangerous. That is why you've assessed him. Arya, what do you think of his skill?"

"He is strong and skilled in combat. Not to mention incredibly fast for a human," Arya thought for second before continuing. "But he lacks endurance, or I think he does. I'm not quite sure with that last attack. I don't know where he could have gotten the strength to keep going. Most humans would have exhausted themselves. However, each time he seemed to slow, he suddenly had more energy again. It is troubling. And, his armor… I had not expected it to be so resilient."

"Not to mention his magic," Eragon said. "I've seen him use it before. He never seems affected by the toll that each spell should have. He is never tired, or anything. I admit, I am a bit jealous." The dragon rider gave a lighthearted grin.

Eragon then looked down at Elva, who was staring at him, her eyes filled with something bordering on contempt. The rider frowned before looking away, feeling ashamed of his short comings.

"Where is he?" Arya questioned.

Nasuada sighed, a bit agitated about the encounter. "Around the camp somewhere, there are two elves assigned to watch him, so I'm not too worried. Besides, now that we have more time, I believe that this is our opportunity to help Elva." The leader nodded towards the rider who gave a slight bow of the head.

The Varden's leader then headed towards her pavilion with the rider and his dragon following close behind. Saphira had remained mostly silent through the battle, though he could feel her distress through their bond. She had strengthened her mental defenses so that Eragon could not enter into her personal thoughts.

 _You've been quiet_. Eragon said to Saphira.

 _Something smells dead_. She responded with a snort. Smoke rising from her nostrils as she gritted her teeth.

 _Uhh… What?_

 _Never mind._ She began to crouch just a little. As if she was trying to protect her belly, her wings tucked in close. She was tense, as if expecting an attack.

Odd. _Are you sure you're all right?_ Eragon asked gently, not wishing to upset her.

 _I am perfectly fine._ The sapphire dragon raised her head and scanned the horizon, sniffing the air. She pulled back her teeth and let out a very low and quiet growl.

 _Saphira? Are you sure you're okay?_ Eragon looked at his dragon, his friend, with concern. However, she didn't respond, letting the silence hang in the air.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Magic glitch anyone? Don't worry everything will be explained later. Its effects will stay throughout the story. There is more to come…**_

 _ **I have no idea when the next chapter will be out. So, don't get your hopes too high up.**_

 _ **May the force be with you! HHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHAAAAAHHHAAAAAA!**_

… _ **.Star Wars….**_

 _ **If you find any grammar or spelling errors at all, please tell me in the review section. If you want to ask me anything make a review. If you can, then give me encouragement, it makes me write faster! Also, no mean comments, only constructive criticism is allowed! If you don't like it, then don't read it!**_


	5. Chapter 5

Fire Winds

Chapter 5

Saphira watched her rider with a sort of bored curiosity. Her head held up halfway and her tail twitched as she observed his rather painful yet graceful movements. She ruffled her wings when Eragon bent over backwards and put his hands on the ground, lifting his stomach in the air.

"What are you doing?" Aodhfin said. When he got up this morning, this… was not one of things he had expected to see. He had stared for a full minute in bewilderment. He had heard stories of people moving like that, but never actually seen it himself. To be honest, some of it looked incredibly painful.

Eragon kept his position as he answered, "It's called Rimgar…" He inhaled evenly before continuing, "Its a series of poses created by the elves." He breathed in again before slowly exhaling.

"Oh…well… have fun with that," Aodhfin turned to leave, but Eragon quickly stood up and called out to him.

"Wait! Aodhfin would you…" The boy paused as he looked over the warrior. "No armor today?" he asked as he arched an eyebrow.

Aodhfin nodded. He decided to wear the clothes he had acquired on his journey with the two elves. He needed to test Arya's translation spell and that would be easier when he wasn't wearing his armor. He still had both of his swords strapped to his belt and a dagger placed securely in his boot for insurance.

"Not today," he confirmed.

Eragon actually brightened up at that. Smiling he said "Anyways, I was thinking that maybe you could help with the wedding preparations. After everything that's happened to you recently…. And besides, we could use the extra hands." The boy looked at him expectantly. The she dragon tilted her head away.

Yesterday, after Aodhfin returned from the field, he was taken to Nasuada's pavilion where she, Eragon, Arya, and himself had a long discussion about Nirn. In return they told him about Alagaësia.

It was interesting, to say the least. Alagaësia wasn't even fully discovered yet, but proved to be a large mystical continent with many secrets. The dwarves (who were the small people he had encountered throughout the camp and had no relation to elves at all) were the first citizens of this land alongside the dragons. They lived in giant underground cities, spending most of their lives within the mountains, not unlike the dwemer.

Then the elves and urgals came sailing on their boats, the elves getting into a huge war with the dragons. That war ended soon enough, and in its wake it created the Dragon Riders, two beings bonded together through a magic link. It also totally changed the elves, making them immortal and more powerful.

Humans soon arrived from another distant place. They were included into the whole bonding with dragons thing. Fast forward a few centuries and Galbatroix goes insane, destroying the Dragon Riders and nearly the entire dragon species. Now, he ruled over the Empire with an iron fist.

Aodhfin told them almost everything he knew about Nirn, however he left out anything to do with dragons, the dragonborn, and his personal life. Nasuada noticed the lack of details about himself, perhaps Arya did too, but Eragon didn't notice, didn't care, or was just being respectful.

For over an hour, he demonstrated what little magic that he knew, giving them a sort of rough tutorial on how it worked. Physical spells like fire, ice, and sparks worked perfectly fine, so there were no problems with them. He did vaguely infer about the other classes, but for the most part implied that he knew very little about them. The three asked him dozens of questions about magicka. He answered them, though they didn't really believe most of what he told them.

Once Eragon and Aodhfin were allowed to return to their tents, the boy had looked at him in admiration and respect. Aodhfin was older and he did tell them of the great many dangers of his land, including the civil war. He was much more experienced than the boy who he noticed couldn't have even been older than six and ten.

"Later, perhaps," He said, returning to their current conversation. Eragon nodded before grabbing the sword he had acquired the day before. The half elf swung the falchion in smooth, experienced arcs, fighting an invisible enemy. Whoever his teacher had been had done a fine job in training the rider. With that thought, Aodhfin left to roam through the camp, two elves constantly at his back.

It took longer than he would have liked to find the mess. The place was full of people, most having not washed since the beginning of the war, others long before that. The cooks were happily dispensing cheap ale to the soldiers that were gathered here and there, letting them drink away the horrors of the war.

The crowd of mostly men let him pass without much thought, to them he was a completely normal person. However, the elves tailing him had a harder time of going unnoticed. People went quiet when they walked by, scared, yet curious.

While he was in the field, he had tested a variety of shouts and spells. His thu'um was fine, using the power of the dragon souls, as always, well with the exception of all of his call dragon shouts. Though his magic was a different story. Using a field mouse as a test dummy, Aodhfin found that his illusion spells barely worked and his conjured swords simply fazed through everything. After mangling the little rodent (much to Durnehviir's amusement) and using a healing spell, he discovered that it only occasionally succeeded. He supposed that he was lucky he healed Arya as much as he had.

He didn't have the resources to try enchanting or alchemy, but the pre made potions had the same effect as always. He wondered if they would work on the Alagaësians, though he wasn't eager to find out.

Durnehviir had been useful when testing the enchantments, seeing as he couldn't die. Aodhfin tested all of the magical effects on his blades and even the durability spell on his armor. When he attacked the dragon or the dragon attacked him, the enchantments always worked perfectly. They only seemed to fail against objects from Alagaësia.

There was only one thing he couldn't test in the field.

Aodhfin wandered around the crowd of soldiers, reminding him of Skyrim and the final months of the Civil War. Stormcloak and Imperial camps alike were abundant. The Imperial camps slowly disappearing as Ulfric and his forces managed to overtake them.

After grabbing a bit of bread, Aodhfin approached a group who were busy watching four people play some sort of game in the dirt. They rolled a pair of dice in the dirt, cheering or frowning depending on which sides the dice landed on. They passed bags of coins to each other every now and then.

"Do I know you stranger?" said a gruff voice on his right. Aodhfin turned towards the source and was met with the face of a dark colored man with bright blue eyes. He looked to be in his late fifties with his wrinkled face and balding hair, the grey creeping in. His beard was short and curly with a few crumbs in it that he was currently busy trying to brush away with his gauntleted hand. For the most part, he wore leather armor, but he had a few pieces of steel armor on his knees and shoulders. The pauldrons had the Vardan's and Surdan's crests painted on them. He carried a standard short sword on his belt, his hand patting the pommel.

"No," Aodhfin said. He then turned his attention back to the game.

The man hummed. "You wouldn't happen to know how to play, would you?" He said, gesturing to the game.

"No," Aodhfin repeated. The elder let out a chuckle at that response.

"Is that the only thing you can say kid?" He jested.

Aodhfin decided to humor him. "No."

"Why don't I teach you a thing or two?" He laughed and clasped his hand on Aodhfin's shoulder. Aodhfin didn't mind the contact, in fact he grinned. It wouldn't hurt to have a little down time, besides, he might learn something important. It wasn't like anything was going to happen anytime soon.

"Sure, why not?"

"That's it kid!" The man then fully faced him, letting out his hand to shake. "I'm Korvon, Korvon Oslensson," He said.

Aodhfin clasped his hand with Korvon's. "Drem yol lok, I am Aodhfin," The man looked confused at the first part and that actually pleased the dragonborn.

"You must be new around here. That some fancy greeting from where you're from?" Korvan asked.

"Something like that."

"What does it mean?"

"Damn if I know," he lied.

Korvon chuckled. They talked for a while longer, watching the soldiers play their game, which was simply called 'sword dice'. Korvon told him that it had been invented hundreds of years ago and was only really popular during war time. The grizzled man told him the rules of the game and how to play. It was a game of chance for the most part, much like the wars that it was resurrected from. Dice was easy to understand and the pieces were easily accessible to anyone.

After a brief tutorial, Korvon and Aodhfin entered the game, taking the places of the previous two quitters. Aodhfin lost a few times before getting the hang of it.

An hour or so passed before Aodhfin decided he had enough. Korvon invited him to come back so he could 'kick his ass' again and Aodhfin gave a little nod, not really confirming if he would return or not. The group of soldiers then granted him luck on the battlefield before saying, "Victory to the Varden, and long live Eragon Shadeslayer!"

Aodhfin didn't like the fact that they trusted the rider so much. It was as if they expected that boy to be their king. True, years could pass in a war, but he didn't think this one would last that long. Nothing really did once he appeared.

Looking up at the bright blue sky, Aodhfin felt a shiver run through his spine. It had been too quiet for too long. Ever since he first arrived in Skyrim, he had always felt like an attack could from anywhere at any time. He had developed a sort of sixth sense for danger, like the hunters who told him stories when he was younger.

Aodhfin looked around, his eyes darting between anything that was moving. Men sharpened their weapons, women hurried around trying to find any problems to fix, the horses nibbled at what little grass there was and dogs barked at each other. If there was any danger, it wasn't here.

His stomach knotting, Aodhfin trusted his gut and began making his way back to his tent. He found that he could barely keep himself from running. All he could think about was the protection of his armor.

When he arrived at the tent, Eragon and Saphira were gone, along with the other elves. He threw the flap aside and changed into his daedric armor as quickly as he could, his sense of vulnerability making him sick.

It was only once he finally had his helmet on that the feeling dulled. He buckled on the sword belt and placed the booted dagger in its proper place on the pauldron.

"Something wrong?"

Surprised, Aodhfin unsheathed his sword and spun around. He stopped before he could finish his attack. Standing in the doorway was one of the elves that was assigned to watch him. Her face was as blank as ever as her silver hair waved in the wind, the light from outside causing the strands to glisten just like her blue eyes.

"No…" He lowered his sword and returned it to its rightful place. Then he gave a small shake of his head, "Actually, I'm not sure," he admitted. He left the tent, leaving the elf staring suspiciously at him.

His gaze wandered to the sky again. His chest locking and squeezing with contained suspense. Aodhfin rolled his hands into a fist before loosening it. Maybe he was wrong; it wouldn't be the first time either. Hundreds of times he would get this feeling and nothing would happen. Most of the time he felt like a fool afterwards, but sometimes, it had saved his life.

There were few clouds in the sky and the dome's blue hue remained void of anything but the occasional bird. To the south was an ever constant presence of dark storm clouds. The Burning Plains, Nasuada had called them, the Varden had fought and won there only a few weeks ago. But, Eragon had lost his own battle against someone called Murtagh, losing his sword, and some of his pride in the process. The three had refused to tell him anymore of the battle, other than the fact that Murtagh rode a red dragon named Thorn.

The dragon souls hummed and he felt that they were pulling him towards a certain direction. He didn't move much as he faced towards what he knew was the Jiet River. Its winding length carving a silver line through the land. Something moved on the banks though he could barely tell with all the tents blocking his view and land being so flat. His gaze moved towards the horizon, directed by the dragons. In that moment, he swore that he saw something sparkle, like drops of bright blood from the sky.

For a mere second, he felt exhilaration as a part of him recognized that shape.

Then he heard the horn.

A loud hoarse cry echoed throughout the land, like a messenger of doom. He stiffened, somewhat shocked from the fear that had been building in his stomach.

There was a brief pause. Every living thing had stopped, afraid to even breathe. Silence invaded the camp, daring anyone to move or speak.

Then the horn blew again.

And again.

And again.

After the third time, the soldiers started running for their tents to suit up and grab their weapons. Horses were being mounted as a flurry of activity raged through the camp. Some people were even screaming nonsense.

He had heard the horns dozens of times during the civil war, when he was in a city or resting in the wilderness next to an army camp. But Whiterun was where he was cursed to hear it day in and day out, the Stormcloaks mounting vicious attacks at random intervals in a vain attempt to wear down the cities defenses. Or more accurately, wear down the dragonborn, the only thing that was really keeping them from taking the city at the time.

The earth shook and rumbled as something heavy and fast raced across it. Looking behind him, Aodhfin was surprised to see Saphira leaping over tents and scores of people in a single bound. Tamrielian dragons could only dream to be as graceful as her.

It was only once she skidded to a stop did he realize that Eragon was on her back, and the instant he saw the boy was the same instant that he slid off her back and raced into his tent as if propelled by some magical speed boost.

Saphira crouched down to allow Eragon better access to her back once he returned, but she scratched at the ground in apprehension. Her claws digging into the padded dirt and her tail sweeping from side to side.

"Saphira?" Aodhfin waved a hand to attract her attention. The dragon's head flicked towards him like a bird. He felt a wave of something flow over his mind like before, but the souls didn't have the time to reach for it. The dragon's eyes narrowed in warning.

"Would you mind carrying me to the front lines?" he asked her respectfully. Even in Skyrim, he had to ask for a ride from a dragon, even then they usually declined unless Aodhfin insisted.

For a moment, nothing happened as Saphira conversed with her rider. Her eye lids twitched as if she had learned something discomforting, then she nodded, though hesitantly. There was a hint of fear in her eyes, as if she somehow knew what Aodhfin really was.

Only a few seconds later, Eragon burst out of his tent, chainmail armor thrown haphazardly over his chest and a helmet covered most of his head, except his face.

Eragon carried a rather strange looking saddle that he threw over Saphira's back, right where the missing spines were. He dropped the rest of the armor, opting to quickly attach the saddle.

Aodhfin rushed to help. He had never seen the dragon saddle before, but its design was basically that of a horse saddle. Despite the sharp claws on his gloves, he buckled up the straps and pulled them tight. Eragon didn't mind the help and started giving him a few instructions.

Eragon was trembling and could hardly tighten up the straps on his end. He face going pale as his mind raced behind his eyes. Aodhfin finished up on his end and went to check on the boy. Eragon was young, younger than he was when he first discovered he was the dovahkiin.

Setting a hand on Eragon's shoulder, Aodhfin lightly shook the boy. The rider looked up at him, his face full of destress and trepidation.

"Calm your nerves." Aodhfin said and Eragon nodded in understanding before going back to the straps. Aodhfin helped him.

Once that was over with, Eragon quickly grabbed the rest of his armor and slid into the saddle. With practiced ease Aodhfin slipped in behind the rider, he held on with his legs like he did with the dragons back on Nirn.

Saphira rose from the ground. Already he could feel the power in her muscles, the tiny scales allowing her powerful muscles more movement. She spread her wings half way and lurched forward, taking two leaping bounds.

She jumped off the dirt, before letting her wings free, flapping them hard to gain altitude. Aodhfin felt a sense of partial fulfillment as he did every time he rode on a dragon. The longing to spread his own wings coming to the forefront of his mind, but he pushed it away.

The speed at which Saphira gained height was incredible compared to the heavy and slow paced children of Akatosh. Her scales, slim body, and huge wings making the feat nearly effortless as she quickly rose over the camp. Though her movements were shaky and Aodhfin was forced to lean forward to avoid smacking the back of his head on the spike behind him.

Eragon on the other hand, was completely used to the added movement. In fact, he was busy equipping the rest of his armor as he held on tight with his legs alone. Aodhfin watched for a few seconds, slightly amused at the boy's haste before turning his attention to the earth below.

The dragonborn scanned the ground, watching as the majority of the soldiers rushed to a specific side of the camp. Aodhfin turned towards that side, and found that it was the same plain that he had been looking at before. His gaze tilted towards the Jiet River, where five jet black boats lay beached on the sandy shoreline. Marching in neat rows towards the Varden's encampment were what he guessed was around three hundred soldiers, their armor colored in the flame red of the empire.

Saphira lurched as she dived towards the ground, her wings tucking in close to her body. Aodhfin faced forwards, instinctively making himself as streamlined as possible. Eragon did the same in front of him, all pieces of his armor strapped into their proper place.

The dragon spread her wings, catching the wind as she landed with her back feet. The sudden stop and impact on the ground making her entire body thunder and quake.

As soon as Saphira placed her front paws on the ground, Aodhfin slid off her back, grunting from height as the impact echoed through his armor and bones. He almost had to catch himself from the fall. He silently cursed himself at the foolish move, only now realizing that he was too used to the low hanging necks of the Tamerilian dragons.

Once he recovered, he wasn't surprised to find a hoard of horses all around him. Nasuada sat on an enormous war horse - still wearing her dress - her guards not far behind. A few other important looking people were sitting on their horses. Arya, on the other hand, was standing on the ground, along with all the other elves and looking much better than the last time he saw her, though she seemed a bit pale.

Everyone glanced from him, to Saphira, and then to Eragon. Their eyes lingering on their hero and he could see the trust and faith that they held in their eyes. Well, everyone except the Urgals, whom simply acknowledged their existence as if nothing remarkable had happened.

He heard horses galloping and turned to see King Orrin and a retinue appearing from within the encampment. They all reigned their horses to a stop next to their group.

Several other important people appeared, including a thundering Urgal that was far larger than the rest of his kind. Not that it really bothered Aodhfin much. He had faced far worse. While looking over the Urgal, their eyes meet and the giant monster did not look even a bit happy, in fact, he tilted his head downwards the longer Aodhfin stared.

Looking away, Aodhfin studied the army before them.

"Look." Nasuada pointed towards the approaching army in response to a question the Urgal had asked. The metal of their armor and weapons sparkled against the water, mimicking the silvery waves.

"I put their number between two hundred seventy and three hundred." Arya stated matter-of-factly as she shaded her eyes from the suns glare.

"Why so few?" Asked one of the men seated on a saddle.

Why indeed. Aodhfin was sure it was a trap. It had to be a distraction for something else. Murtagh, perhaps? It was likely from what he had heard of Galbatorix. But, still, they would need a much larger force to hold the Varden's attention longer. This meager battalion would be wiped out in an instant against the Varden's army.

There was defiantly something wrong with those soldiers that marched so confidently to their shores.

Orrin scowled. "Galbatorix cannot be mad enough to believe he can destroy us with such a paltry force!" He paused as he pulled off his crown shaped helm to wipe away some sweat.

Aodhfin shook his head. "It's a distraction." In the same instant that he spoke, all heads turned to him. But unlike Eragon, he was not one to fall beneath the pressure of their gazes. "Something else is coming. Probably Murtagh," He glanced at Eragon who nodded in agreement. "Those soldiers aren't enough to hold our attention long-"

"Exactly!" Orrin interrupted him. "We could obliterate them without batting an eye."

Aodhfin raised a hand to stop the king, or anyone else, from speaking a single word. The action made Orrin silently reel in his saddle as his partially jaw dropped before grinding it closed. "As I was going to say," Aodhfin continued, " I doubt that they came without some sort of trick up their sleeves. We must prepare for anything."

To his surprise, Nasuada actually nodded. "I feel the same."

The giant Urgal crossed his arm as he looked at Aodhfin threatening. Despite this, the Urgal added, "The Dragon King is a false-tongued traitor, a rogue ram, but his mind is not feeble. He is cunning like a blood-hungry weasel." Giving a nod of agreement.

As the Varden's soldiers began to march towards the approaching host, a messenger boy leading a large seal bay stallion behind him ran up to the Varden's leader. She bent down to listen to his words and take the horse's reins. Then she dismissed him. "Nar Garzhvog," she said addressing the tall Urgal. So, that was his name. "Your people are safe within out camp. They are gathered near the east gate, ready for you to lead them." Garzhvog grunted, but didn't move.

Nasuada then turned to Aodhfin. "Here," She offered him the reigns and he took them. "I feel as though you are in need of a worthy stead." She then turned her attention back to the army.

Aodhfin studied the war horse. It was dressed in basic battle armor with a cupper and peytral, the Varden insignia was etched into the sides of both shoulders. Aodhfin threw Nasuada a questioning look as best as one could with a helmet over their face. But Nasuada was no longer paying attention. She had her attention directed to the task at hand.

With that, he slid into the saddle. He patted the stallion's neck as he grasped the reins tightly. The horse jerked around restlessly, sensing the excitement all around it.

"The tide of battle may-" Nasuada was cut off by the blast of the enemy horn, the sound causing everyone to wince and throw their hands over their ears. Aodhfin simply endured it, he had seen too many men and women get killed by lesser distractions to draw his attention away from the fight in front of him.

As the sound died, Aodhfin knew for certain that this was all just a trap.

Then he saw it.

He was certain this time. Because this time, his soul leapt in his chest as it all but drooled.

A sparkling red dragon rose into the sky from behind dense forest trees. Adorning its back was a man dressed in fine armor, raising a blood colored sword into the sky. The dragon roared out a challenge that his dragon half desperately wanted to respond to, but he kept himself quiet. It was bad enough with Saphira standing right next to him, now he would have to deal with Thorn.

Saphira and Eragon turned their attention to the red dragon. There was pain, sorrow, and hate in their eyes. The sapphire dragon snarled and she curled her claws against the dirt.

The Vardens army held back as the archers prepared to fire a volley of sharpened arrows. However, the Empires forces didn't stop, even though it was clear they were about to be slaughtered. None of them raised their shields.

"Nasuada!" Aodhfin steered his horse next to hers. She turned towards him. "Do not underestimate your enemies." She nodded giving him an 'I know' expression, he kicked his horse forwards and the stallion rocketed forwards with a speed he hadn't experienced from horses in a while.

The steed raced towards the gates with a sort of vigor that no animal should have possessed. It wheeled around each turn as if the armor on its back weighed next to nothing. It seemed like they were both determined to reach the same place.

Eventually he rode in front of his allies' army, staying a few yards away. He didn't like it when people got in his way and that happened often in his profession. His mind drifting back to a stupid guard who had jumped in front of him when he had been trying to Shout at a dragon.

That guard wasn't getting in anyone's way anymore.

The Varden loosened their arrows. A thick cloud of projectiles flying over their heads, not enough to darken the sky, but enough to bring the approaching host to its knees. At least, that was what he hoped...

At the last minute, the Empire's soldiers lifted their shields, or most of them did. The arrow tips thudding onto the wood, their sharpened tips digging deep. He swore that some men had been hit right in the face, but they didn't fall. He blinked. When he opened his eyes, the soldiers blended in with their comrades, their bodies becoming indistinguishable.

It was like they had forgotten that they needed to protect themselves. The fact made Aodhfin uneasy. It reminded him of the countless Draugr and skeletons he had fought during his time in Skyrim.

A horn blew through the Varden ranks and the army lumbered forward ahead of him. A cavalry unit broke out from the main gates with King Orrin leading the charge as the horses rounded to the side of the approaching force, a unit of stampeding Urgals following close behind the king. The two armies collided in the field with little ceremony.

Aodhfin's stead began to move around restlessly. As he let the horse pace, he looked up into the sky and gave a wary glance at the ruby dragon, but Murtagh and Thorn seemed far more interested in the sapphire dragon and her rider whom were still planning their attack at the camp.

A part of him wanted to fight the dragon, but Aodhfin resisted and turned his horse forward, switching back towards the battle at hand. He kicked at the horse's sides, finally letting it charge towards the opposing side. The death cries and screams of men reaching his ears, but before he could feel and inkling of grief at their deaths he buried his emotions within himself and replaced them with a stoic and calculating exterior.

As his horse galloped towards the enemy army, he let a slow stream of energy from his dragon soul flow into his body, strengthening his limbs and sharpening both his senses and his mind.

The loud maniacal laughter of the empire's soldiers echoed throughout the grasslands. It was disturbing to hear as they tore men limb from limb.

Aodhfin choose a target, his eyes focusing on the red cape that a man wore as he hacked a Varden pike man to pieces. The dragonborn unsheathed Blitz Cannon and sliced at the man's back. The sword didn't ignite him into flames, but it did send him tumbling to the ground with a loud, surprised grunt. Blood and gore painted his sword as he swung it down on the head of another attacker, cleaving his brains.

He could use a shout, but he doubted that he would need to use his power. Besides, right now, his shouts were his hidden trump card. Sure Arya and Eragon had seen him use one once, but that didn't mean the whole world needed to. Yet, a terrible feeling sunk deep into his soul, that this battle was going to get much worse.

"Eragon!" A voice echoed throughout the land impossibly loud for a single man without aid. He looked upwards, finding the dragon Thorn hovering between the fighting and the camp. No doubt, the voice had belonged to Murtagh.

"Eragon! I see you there, hiding behind Nasuada's skirts. Come fight me, Eragon! It is your destiny. Or are you a coward, Shadeslayer?" Murtagh taunted from his high perch.

Aodhfin spun his horse around, holding the reins with his left hand as he brought demise with his right. A few times his targets would catch fire, cackling madly as they burned to death. Their laughter giving him chills that ran up his spine and set dread into his mind.

A man beside him on the ground stabbed his spear into the heart of an empire soldier. Aodhfin rode past them to find another target.

He heard a loud scream behind him, his horse suddenly jumped and bucked, screeching in distress. He heard chuckling and turned around, swinging his sword. His blade cut into the cheek of the soldier that was trying to debilitate his stead with a spear. The sword cut so deep that it pierced through to the other side of his mouth.

However, the man didn't fall or scream. In fact he gurgled as his jaw hung, twitching as he tried to move it. His tongue was cut in half, squirting blood and flicking around. The man's eyes bulged as he swung the spear back.

That was when Aodhfin realized that the man had a stab wound to the right of his heart and at least several other incapacitating injuries strewn across his body. Bleeding and shaking, the man acted as though he didn't even register the pain they should have caused. The dead body of the spear's original owner lay in the dirt nearby.

Just as the soldier was about to thrust the spear into his back, Aodhfin turned his horse around, deflecting the sharp point. He swept his blade under the man's dangling jaw and then cut straight through his face, his helmet flying off. The body stumbled backwards, his whole head nearly cut in half. Surprise shined in his eyes, before he fell to the ground, finally dead.

His horse limped and threw its head, snapping at him as he pulled on the reins. He felt the stallion try to buck him off, but its injured hunch left it in too much pain.

Aodhfin looked around the battlefield. It was only now that he realized the Varden forces were being slaughtered. There where pockets of soldiers fighting here and there and he could see was left of King Orrin's cavalry unit in the distance.

Many of the Empire's men had lost limbs and fatal stabs from swords, arrows, and spears. But they did not fall. Even though they should be dying on the ground from a missing limb or screaming in pain from a sword through their torso's.

His mind flashed to his countless battles with the draugr. Their rotting bodies filling his nose with their stink and their blue eyes that had come to haunt so many. There had been only two ways to kill them; cut them limb from limb, or slice off their brains.

The only difference between the draugr and the soldiers he fought now was that they still lived with a beating heart in their chests. Unable to feel pain, and insane from the side effect of whatever magic had been used to create the effect.

Why would Galbatorix do this to his own people? What madness could have spawned this idea? Why would any man be willingly cursed with it?

Aodhfin sliced the head off of another soldier, his body twitched before falling over as Aodhfin slid off of his horse. He pressed his hand against the stallion's thigh and concentrated on a healing spell. His hand gave off a golden light, but did nothing to the mend wound.

He hissed in frustration before cutting down a soldier that had thought he could sneak up on him. He patted the horse's back, giving it just a little comfort. However, in its injured condition the stallion would be of little use to him. He slapped the horse's rear, adding a little shock with it for insurance. The armored war horse let loose a pained cry and bucked at him, before running off, away from the battlefield.

Aodhfin pulled Soul Rupture from its sheath, slicing off the head of an unfeeling man in the process. The Varden soldier that the man had been fighting with looked up gratefully. The soldier was covered in scratches and his armor dinged and dented. Blood was splattered all over the steel. In his eyes Aodhfin saw his confusion and fear.

The dragonborn gripped the man's shoulder, moving him out of the way of an oncoming sword, before plunging his daedric sword in the attacker's heart.

"They are not immortal," Aodhfin assured him as he let the man stand on his own feet as the body fell. "Cut off their heads or stab their hearts and they will fall," The soldier nodded. "Go," Aodhfin continued, "Spread the word," The soldier turned away and began yelling out the information to anyone who would care to listen.

A dragon roared, the howl echoing throughout the battlefield. He almost turned to look for the source, but stopped himself. He was used to being in the middle of nowhere and hearing such a cry.

He cut down several more of the empire's enhanced soldiers, blood and gore coating his armor and swords. But, his effort meant little as the Varden was beginning to fall back to the camp. Saphira and Thorn had begun their own battle in the sky, their riders clashing their swords.

The Varden's army was in complete disarray with soldiers fighting in huddled groups merely trying to survive the onslaught. A war horn blew from the camp.

He caught a blade with his sword, its owner cackling madly. He was about to shove him away before he saw something in the corner of his eye. Another sword descending from behind him and he swiped at the owner, who fell. He wasn't sure if he was dead though.

He shoved away the sword wielder that he locked blades with, only to hear the twang of an arrow being set loose and a hissing in the air. Aodhfin rolled away, the arrow hissing overhead. But, as he rose from the ground, he heard a war cry before a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. His unstable stance combined with the weight sent him and the tackler through the air and back to the blood soaked ground.

They rolled on the ground, Aodhfin felt a sharp dagger hit the armor plates around his waist. He dislodged himself from the attacker and came to a stop. He wasn't surprised to see the soldier sneering at him as he got back to his feet. Aodhfin took his chance and jabbed his sword into the man's skull.

That was when he heard another hissing through the air an arrow hit the side of his chest. The force caused him to stumble. The impact alone caused him to gasp for breath, his lung losing air and sore from the hit. The arrow rebounded off the armor and tumbled to the ground.

No sooner had it hit that Aodhfin found another attacker at his side, he cut him down quickly. Then two appeared at his back, he kicked one away and killed the other. Just as he was about to finish off the kicked one, four more were at one side with three at the other.

Five of them had a sword and shield, and two had battle axes and kite shields. Aodhfin knew he could easily defeat them with several different shouts, but he hesitated with their use.

It was that hesitation that Aodhfin didn't get the chance to come up with a way to defeat them without a shout. He also didn't notice the five behind him and glanced over the two in front, including the kicked soldier whom was already standing.

Aodhfin stared the numbers. Using a shout would be his best chance.

One of them swung at him. Aodhfin dodged, grabbed the sword arm and plunged his sword into the man's heart. The soldier gagged and Aodhfin slid him off to cut down a guy charging from his back, but while he was busy with that, two soldiers attacked from two different sides, one with an axe. He dodged the axe and jabbed the axe wielder with his elbow before gutting him nearly in half. The one with the sword dodged Aodhfin's swing, but at least it got him away for a moment as four others charged at different directions.

They had ganged up on him, Aodhfin realized as he kicked a shield away to lob off the head of it owner. They had figured out that he was the biggest threat on this field, perhaps even ordered to kill him. Even worse, he had no clear cut plan to defeat them without a shout.

He felt a sword hit his back and he arched Blitz Cannon around, hitting the legs of two men and the waist of another before the end of the blade finally buried itself in the head of the attacker. One of the men cut in the legs caught on fire, the wound bursting into flames before spreading. The man simply stared at the fire, as if enchanted by the light.

The other stumbled from his wounded legs, but recovered quickly. But not quickly enough, Aodhfin sliced at his chest, before destroying his face with the other sword.

Aodhfin whirled around, counting eight left as they charged him.

He heard the twang of an arrow set loose. Aodhfin made to dodge, but he felt two sets of hands wrap around his left arm and leg, a sword stabbing at his lower back to no avail.

This time the arrow hit his chest, leaving him winded. Someone grabbed his right arm and twisted it. He felt his sword slip out his hand. The person let go and Aodhfin regained his breath and shoved at the soldier on his left arm, their grip didn't slip and they didn't let go, but he managed to get enough room to stab the back of the one on his leg.

Using his now free hand, Aodhfin punched the guy on his arm first in the shoulder, hearing a crack and then he hit him in face, but that did nothing. Aodhfin took Soul Rupture into his other hand and plunged it into the head of the soldier holding his left arm.

Then he heard something clanking against his waist armor, but unlike other swords, he could feel the armor dent and bend, he could feel the crackle of magic that preceded the activation of an enchantment. He saw the strings of ember light crawl through the armor before exploding into flames. One of his amulets activated, trying to resist the heat of the flames, protecting him against the worst of the damage.

Aodhfin turned to his side and through the flames saw that the man who had twisted his arm had dropped his basic military sword in favor of the fallen Blitz Cannon.

The dragonborn snarled, something he didn't usually do. He felt embarrassed that he had allowed this to happen, but he also felt quite insulted at the man for daring to wield his sword.

Enter the soldier's five comrades, accompanied by at least seven others. They quickly surrounded him, creating a circle with nowhere to escape.

Great, he thought to himself, me versus twelve pain deadened men, one of which has my sword. He took a deep breath. Sounds like reasonable odds. He tried not to think about just how many ways this could go wrong.

He gripped Soul Rupture in both hands, cursing himself for not having a shield. The flames heating up his armor and burning the protective layer of clothing between the daedric metal and his skin. He shouldn't have made Blitz Cannon's enchantment so powerful.

Then he heard several war cries. Not like the half mad cry of the empire's enhanced legion, but the cry of spirited and vengeful warriors that were more alive than their adversaries.

A squad of about twenty-four Varden soldiers ambushed the enemies surrounding Aodhfin, aiming for their heads and hearts. The empire's soldiers turned their attention from the dragonborn to the invading force, half surprised at their arrival.

Aodhfin used the distraction to his advantage, slashing at the man who held his flame enchanted sword. Soul Rupture bit into the man's sword arm and he switched tactics, raising his shield. The fire licked Aodhfin's armor like a gorgeous cape of flames as he kicked away the shield and tried to stab the painless soldier, but the man parried with Blitz Cannon.

All around him the squad was fearlessly fighting the rest of the enemy soldiers, though they were being cautious and had more difficulty with them, even though they knew where the weak points were.

Aodhfin kneed the thief in the gut, but it didn't really do anything. They started to push the blades against each other, hoping the other would falter. Aodhfin didn't play the game long though, simply letting his sword disconnect before he ducked and spun with a leg out, knocking his combatant onto ground face first.

He was dead soon after when Aodhfin stuck Soul Rupture into his brains.

Aodhfin picked up Blitz Cannon as the flames on his body died away at last. Aodhfin helped the Varden platoon to kill the remaining three enemy soldiers that were left.

A man approached him. His sword was drawn and shield up, prepared to kill, but not entirely threatening. He wore a full set of steel armor with a complete helmet so Aodhfin couldn't see his face. He had the Varden and Surdan insignia's on his pauldrons. The man stopped. The rest of his squad just as nervous as he was.

The Varden soldier looked him over, then he laughed. He relaxed his stance. "You're that guy I saw at the training grounds yesterday," he chuckled, and Aodhfin realized that he remembered the voice and pieces of the armor were familiar. "And I thought you had skill before!" The man lifted the visor on his helmet and sure enough it was Korvon.

To say he looked horrible was an understatement. Despite his smile, Korvon appeared older and more tired than he had before, with his wrinkles somehow more profound and more worn. There were droplets of blood and gore spotted on his face and soaking his beard that had somehow managed to get around his helmet. Though, overall he appeared to have no injuries besides a slight limp on his right leg.

"Korvon?" Aodhfin asked, surprised that he was still alive.

Korvon looked at him suspiciously. "Have we met?" the elder looked to be searching his memory.

Aodhfin nodded. "Earlier today, with the war dice. You taught me how to play." Aodhfin sheathed one of his blades before lifting his helmet up to show his face.

The older man scratched at his chin. His eyes then glinted with recognition. "Ah! Aodhfin? I didn't recognize you with that mountain of armor on." Korvon allowed himself to get closer, "That helmet really screws with your voice too."

"Yes, it does," Aodhfin said passively as he put his helmet back on and Korvon gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder, though he quickly retracted his hand at the realization that the armor was still burning hot. The rest of the squad relaxed as they started scanning the battlefield, a task Aodhfin subconsciously joined them in.

"Thank you for helping me," Aodhfin said as he determined that there were no enemies nearby, the main conflict having moved closer to the borders of the Varden camp. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't." That wasn't necessarily true though, but he was glad that he could keep his shouting abilities a secret.

Korvon shrugged off the complement with a grunt and turned towards the chaotic mess that the two armies had fallen into. "Enough talk-" the man said as he flipped his visor down over his face. He turned to his men: "-Lets finish these bastards off!"

The soldiers cheered as Korvon took the initiative and ran ahead towards the epicenter of the battle. Though their weariness clearly showed in their movements and voices they remained determined to be victorious in this battle.

Aodhfin followed after them, stepping over the multiple bloody and broken bodies that lay across the battlefield. He noted that most of the bodies bore the Varden's insignia. This was terrible, this attack had proven more costly than they had predicted. Such a waste of life.

He shrugged the grief off as their party finally reentered the battle.

Aodhfin lost track of how many imperial soldiers he killed, but he was certain that the battle was falling back into the Varden's favor. With allies all around him, it was much easier to prevent them from ambushing him again.

Slashing at the face of young imperial soldier, Aodhfin effortlessly ended the boy's life, only for him to be replaced with another soldier that had been standing behind him.

This soldier had one arm broken and weighed down by a now useless shield, while his last functioning hand held a war axe and he was ready to strike the dragonborn down. Rage burned his eyes as if Aodhfin had committed some great injustice.

The man let loose a war cry as he raised his axe and attempted to slash Aodhfin's head off. Unfortunately, Aodhfin easily blocked the strike with one of his swords. The man stumbled backwards and almost tripped on the bodies.

Before Aodhfin ended his pathetic life, the man snapped his head up his eyes staring beyond his opponent and towards the skies. The man seemed surprised, but Aodhfin ignored it temporarily to separate his head from his body. Only then did Aodhfin turn around to find the source of the soldier's interest.

Only to see a massive scarlet colored dragon descending from the sky, fire crackling in its mouth as its white teeth glinted in the light. It red eyes shining with deadly intent.

As much as Aodhfin liked to believe that he could control himself in any situation, his reaction was immediate, instinctual, and predictable. Before he could even think to stop himself, he had already drawn energy from his soul and was shouting the words.

" **JOOR, ZAH, FRUL!"**


End file.
